Wednesday, June 07, 2006

When I Die


When I die

Plant a tree close to me.

Hemlock, holly, buckthorn, oak –

it will not matter which,

when I seep through the earth

like slow rain sipped by roots

I’ll rise

skyward pulled into branches, into twigs,

I’ll feed unfolding leaves, I’ll flower,

fruit and fill with seed.

I’ll transpire

and with each green and glorious exhalation,

I’ll become

The air you breathe.

4 comments:

S.L. Corsua said...

Beautiful, dear. Quite a cathartic reading experience. ^_^ Especially loved the lines:

I’ll rise
skyward pulled into branches, into twigs,
I’ll feed unfolding leaves, I’ll flower,
fruit and fill with seed.
I’ll transpire


Cheers. ^_^

Concetta said...

Soulless - Thanks. I'm always honored when someone with your talent likes something here. Thanks for visting - and come again! Cheers back to you!

Charli Cole said...

I'm most fond of the last two lines, where the transformation of life is emphasized. At least, that's the way I see it.

Concetta said...

Welcome back! Missed you! Sounds like things are changing for you - all good!

BTW, your aunt's ex-client is a small minded dope.

Hug.

-CA