It is upon the thought of my demise
that I wonder if the memory of me
shall wake into tomorrow’s sunrise
or will I fade into the distant echoes
of what once was — barely to be recognized.
All I hope is the flowers laid down upon
my life will stay fresh and beautiful
in the hearts of those who knew me true.
I want each rose to be a symbol of my love;
each tulip sprouting anew – to be recognition
of my constant growth. I want each
lilly to be the fragrance of my heart
as each daffodil will enrich the soil
of my internal and external being.
But perhaps if those flowers shall
be just a faded mark of my existence,
I will still have been a presence in the eyes
of those who have admired and even
in those who may have less desired.
So for the eventual death of me I shall not scare
for to truly live life is not to fall to its fear
as through all the glimpses of my memory
I know I will always be here.
© 2009
Rewritten 2012
For “Tears Of A Poet”
