A dark November evening, dreary and cold,
Wisps of fog creep over the asphalt bold,
Groping, the night stretches out its hand,
A cool breeze sighs through the weeping land.
Today All Saints’ Day is celebrated,
Graves are visited, prayers dully stated,
So I chose to stay at home instead,
By hypocrisy chased away and misled.
For buried are only the empty shells,
Which are not the place where spirit dwells,
The souls are no longer trapped in the frame,
They walked to the light, freed from earthly claim.
Death brings loss, pain and depression, too,
Yet also growth and transformation anew,
Giving space for deep experiences to arise,
To see what truly matters under the skies.
Therefore, for good reason, I make my plea:
Let’s throw a party, colorful and free,
Just like the vibrant photos on display
From the ritual of the Día de los Muertos way.
Our loved ones brought us joy and grace,
Lived, wept, and laughed in our embrace,
Now, despite all pain that tears apart,
Let us keep gratitude alive in the heart.
