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When they lay me in the damp earth upon my death, May the sunlight bleach my bones gold and The moon cast me in her silvery glow, romantic and sweet. May flowers swirl around my spine and ferns sprout from my stomach, May foxgloves burst from my teeth and marigolds in my eyes, Queen Anne’s Lace, my tongue. May lilacs and lilies claim my fingers, Moss and mushrooms my legs. May my ribcage serve as nature’s atrium, Full of verdant life. May the saplings planted there grow into great towering trees in which weary birds can rest in their boughs, Where the bees can feast on ambrosia nectar and their honey will flow into the hollows of my soul, Where the dusky fox and her kits find comfort, The hungry wolf a place to lay his weary head, The angelic doe a creek to parch her thirst, The spores and seeds of the wild a fertile spot to flourish, O blood of my blood. The wind sings of my sanctuary, My body is Home. Let Mother Earth reclaim me. I hear her beckon, “Daughter, Beloved.” As the Earth swallows my body But my spirit ascends to the stars. Beauty from the decay.
