Her Epitaph

Load me not into darkened hearse

But spread me cross the universe.

Up where the stars and souls abide

And drift me down the mountainside.

That I might fall to ground as rain

my secret paths will none explain,

in fiery smoke that burns to ash,

on churning waves that endless crash.

And that last breath that was my life

Let slip away with little strife.

And it will somehow linger more

among the sands on foreign shore.

And wafting I over field and hill

to enter soft your windowsill.

Blow me through your lungs in song

Forgiving all I did was wrong.

And when this dust that was me falls

In somber thoughts no one recalls

Commit me gently to my tomb

That final twilight mother’s womb.

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