Morrisburg Cemetery
“For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of the grass. The grass withereth, and flower thereof falleth away. But the word of the Lord endureth forever. . . ” I Peter 1:24-25
At the edge
Of the Stuart Road
Sleep the Morrisburg souls.
A hilltop town
Flourishing for a time,
Before splintering
In a storm.
Without warning
Their time came.
Now years of serenity
Cover them
On this high curve.
Decades of summers
Shelter these souls.
A community of friends
Stilled, and now settled
Patiently at rest,
Men, women, children
awaiting the archangel call.
He will find them all
Here, south of Panora
Amid the tallgrass drifts.
— Nicholas Dowd (2014)
Joy: I knew that my great grandmother, Georgia Williams Davis Wilson, was buried at Morrisburg. It felt lonely, since her husband Daniel Wilson is buried at Coon Rapids among the Wilsons.
But recently a genealogist has been collecting information about Georgia Wilson’s descendants. He told me that there are at least thirty Williams relatives buried at Morrisburg. So Great Grandmother Georgia is among her family.
I had just re-savored Nick’s poem about the cemetery so asked if I could share it, along with the verse he began with. Ever gracious, he said, “Of course. That would be wonderful.”
A poignant blessing.
Nick also gave me his blessing to publish the poem to introduce Leora’s Early Years: Guthrie County Roots, which is also about her husband, Clabe Wilson’s early years. Georgia was his mother.
How timely this post was for me, especially the opening verse about the brevity of life! Before I read your post, I had been going over my notes for a chapel message I will be bringing to the student body of a local private school tomorrow. The theme is the value, uncertainty, and brevity of time, and I will use a similar verse from James: “What is your life? It is even a vapor.” With that knowledge, I hope to impress upon the students the need to “redeem” their time, using it wisely and circumspectly. One of my illustrations is from a graveyard: The little en dash between the buried person’s date of birth and date of death. It represents his or her life. What will that en dash say they did with their time? And in speaking thus to the students, I’m speaking to myself as well! Thanks for the confirmation of my message!
Amen! I hope your talk will end up in a blog post!
(Nick Dowd also wrote the “Meadowlark” poem that introduced “Leora’s Letters.”)
I thought I recognized Nick Dowd’s name from Leora’s Letters. I’m glad he gave his blessing for you to share “Morrisburg Cemetary” on your blog. It’s a beautiful tribute.
I’ll be glad when he publishes his endearing and enduring writing–prose and poetry.
Lovely blog. Thanks for sharing.
May parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and many more relatives are buried at Morrisburg. It is a beautiful setting.