When I die
I shall become a
Tree
Perhaps a big
Willow
no longer weeping
but sheltering
in my branches
or maybe an
eternal pine
green in the
face of Winter's apparent
deathly grip
reaching to the
canopy and praising the
Sun
getting washed in the
rain
covered in snow
so my outer visage
feeds
four limbs blossom
into many
branches
fingers toes
smaller branchlings
blue eyes
the sky
but in that moment
between
steam-to-rain-to-ice
and back again
in there, yes,
my sprouted-full
Soul
sways in the ruach
of God
br yossi
2008
Här går det att läsa mer om vad som inspirerade brodern till dikten - en naturlig begravning - utan kistor och valv - man blir bokstavligen till ett träd - tycker det låter sympatiskt: www.honeycreekwoodlands.com
Etiketter: death, döden, English, poem, tree, träd |
