Tuesday, May 1, 2012

When I am Dead, My Dearest

When I am dead, my dearest,
and gone beneath the ground,
lay me gently in the earth,
so roots can travel down.

So roots can travel down, my love,
that break the flesh and bone,
my pallid skin, frail porcelain,
beneath the grass and stone.

When I am dead, my dearest,
and the soil my eternal bed,
when my breath has all expired,
lay no flowers at my head.

My hair will weave a firmament
of stars as sacred crown,
when I am dead, my dearest,
my love, when I am gone.

5 comments:

  1. This brings to mind Christina Rossetti's immortal poem, "When I Am Dead", from which this undoubtedly draws inspiration - and like it, provides some comfort in words and signs to the one who remains.

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  2. nice...if i can feed something else, a tree or patch of flowers when i am dead, i am all for it...enchanting form as well in this....

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  3. That's a pretty happy death poem, although I wasn't sure until the end. Very nice.

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  4. Death can be relied on to bring us thoughts of dreams undreamt, and a happiness that earth might not herself have given while life rushed thru our veins. Nicely done, excellent write.

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  5. Kinda morbid. Ever heard of Jesus? Jesus kicks-ass. HeeHee

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