Welcome in this oasis of serenity. I love old cemetaries. So that's why i create this blog. Beautiful statues (stone angels), old tombstones and peaceful quietness invite you to reflect on life and death. No, i am not tired of life, i don't wanna die yet, but i love this melancholic feeling i get when wandering about these places. The mystery of life and death. Wander with me.......

Friday, December 18, 2009

A step

Photograph by Jeff Maio


On the other side of darkness,
far away there shines a light,
A light to end all sorrow,
A light to be ever free,
A light for a new tomorrow
A light for you and me

On the other side of darkness,
far away there shines a light,
A light which gives out joy,
A light which is made of love,
A light which minds employ,
That light in heaven above

On the other side of darkness,
far away there shines a light
A light which bathes mans mind
in the wisdom of eternal flame
That which will redeem mankind
And make the highest truths plain

Raja Sivaji


Sunday, November 1, 2009

Rain before dawn

Photograph: Angel in the rain by Tim Oliver Husser.

The dull, faint patter in the drooping hours
Drifts in upon my sleep and fills my hair
With damp; the burden of the heavy air
Is strewn upon me where my tired soul cowers,
Shrinking like some lone queen in empty towers
Dying. Blind with unrest I grow aware:
The pounding of broad wings drifts down the stair
And sates me like the heavy scent of flowers.

I lie upon my heart. My eyes like hands
Grip at the soggy pillow. Now the dawn
Tears from her wetted breast the splattered blouse
Of night; lead-eyed and moist she straggles o'er the lawn,
Between the curtains brooding stares and stands
Like some drenched swimmer --
Death's within the house!

Poem by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Last sunrays

I saw your face
enlightened by the last sunrays.
Distant worlds burn like fire in your eyes.
Where do you wander my beloved one?

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Warm colours and cold stones

I like to keep this blog black and white with some faint colurs now and then, but when it's fall here in Holland and i love to place autumn photographs, this blog shall have more colours than usual. :-)

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Saturday, September 26, 2009

That time of year

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

William Shakespeare from The Sonnets.

Friday, September 4, 2009

What is she dreaming about?

Although these angels don't have their home on the cemeteray, i still want to share their images with you. The first one, dreaming angel, i made in a little church in France but shame on me i've forgotten the name of the village. The second angel, who's looking up, i made in the beautiful Cathedral of Boulogne sur mer. Later while driving the car i found out that Boulogne also has a very nice cemetery but there was no time left to visit it. :-( Besides: my three beloved ones, one big man and two little ones, don't share my interest and passion for old graveyards.

Sunday, July 12, 2009


Life is an unanswered question, but let's still believe in the dignity and importance of the question.

Tennessee Williams

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Girl and death

By Edvard Munch

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

A dream within a dream

Photograph The longing of a ghost by Bright soul

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
s all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

Poem: A dream within a dream, by Edgar Allen Poe.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Petite fantome

Photograph by Renoux

Friday, June 19, 2009

I dream my future * Ik droom mijn toekomst

Gravel rustle under my feet
Thoughts wandering to expired times
Tomorrow is yesterday sighs the sinking sun
I dream my future into oblivion.

Grind knispert onder mijn voeten
Gedachten dwalen naar voorbijgegane tijd
Morgen is gisteren verzucht de zinkende zon
Ik droom mijn toekomst in vergetelheid.

Momo Luna

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Then shall you truly dance

Photograph by Cathy from One pink goose.

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it
unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind
unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death,
open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one,
even as the river and the sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires
lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow
your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams,
for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd
when he stands before the king
whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling,
that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?
For what is it to die
but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is to cease breathing,
but to free the breath from its restless tides,
that it may rise and expand
and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence
shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top,
then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs,
then shall you truly dance.

Khalil Gibran


Tuesday, June 2, 2009