Saturday, 27 July 2013

My funeral poem

I do not lie where you think
I do not rest in peace
Why have you rivers down your cheek?
Smile my darlings, do not weep.
It is but a passing that we each must cross
Where we go from here I know not
But do not mourn for this vessel of mine
Do not waste life
I am walking with the keeper of time 
I am passing into the next life.
Don't sit here at my marking I do not linger here
Waste not, no adornments of false cheer

I am the breeze that smells the lavender on a warm summer morning
I am the tide cool on the sand rushing, my voice is the sea calling
I am the leaf in the tree, watching the seasons go past
I am in the magic of every spell you might cast.
Sorrow is a disease, not worthy of us
Joy is where I am, honour, passion, lust
These are the moments that matter
Waste not in colours of black
Black is for the miserable and for me I am not that.
Live and live well, we have such little time
Do not waste live, and do not mourn mine

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