My funeral; you’re invited. It’s tomorrow.
This is your life and its ending one moment at a time.
People belong in your life by natural vibration, not forced will or expectation.
You shall sit on a cushion of velvety moss,
Embroidered with sunbeams across and across,
And a grasshopper chorus will make you good cheer,
Or charm you with delicate lullabies, dear.
I will tap at your window some moon silvered night,
And when you lean through the jessamine light,
My fairy-swift wings I will softly unfurl,
And bear you away to my palace of pearl.
Photo credits to Joe from once upon a long time ago. My soul lives at Breitenbush eternally.
It’s when you hide things that you choke on them.