Burial

Ducks calling and the deep
Whippoorwill, light skimming
A sharp stone
Against the lake’s surface
So the far shore flickers,
Changes, reflections
Shimmer and roll,
A cattail outlined
Becomes
Golden-haloed
In morning’s haze,
My father’s body
Has come to rest
In our
Grandfather’s living place,
The beginning place,
Generation after generation,
Peace reaches out,
Voices echo across water
There is
No hell here, no need
To fear deep woods and dark
Shade, sssh child, rock-a-bye
My own baby
Child, welcome home.