I want to be a Lady of the Sycamore
a white sycamore in winter
bare luminous serene
its tortuous branches
misshapen beauteous forms
unshaken against heaven.
I want my ashes to rest
between two sycamore
at the eastern gate of heaven
the first rays of morning sun
greeting my grey earthly remains
warming the dark dust
beneath its opulent arms
white and luminous
offering sustenance to the dead.
No comments:
Post a Comment