And when I die . . .
Let your eyes be as parched,
As the Kalahari desert sands.
For your tears only leaden the burden
Of the aches and troubles that I'll shed.
For where I go, these temporal ills
That plague my body and devastate my spirit
Shall forever be just a passing sigh
In the threads spun by Destiny.
And when I die . . .
Let your eyes sparkle with exultation
For my release from this finite shell
Of flesh, blood, and bone.
Consign this amazing vessel of my soul
To the cleansing Fires and grace my ashes
A mighty Roman candle whence on a clear night
In dazzling brilliance I embrace the sky
Return to Nature that which is Hers.
And when I die . . .
Fill the vacuum of my absence
With joyful memories of my childhood follies,
Pubescent romances and adult eccentricities.
Taint them not with your grief and anxiety
For our existence has e'er been in our minds
Where together our destinies mingle.
And in the swirls of memories that suffuse
Your mind -- placate . . . and my spirit liberate.
