Fiona Connor, Contributor.
This empty carcass that I call home
Will gain more life when I have
Shuffled on from this mortal realm,
Than it ever did with a beating heart
beneath its skeletal cage.
Those ivory bones that knit me together
Will crumble in the soil with naught but
The worms and maggots to call companions.
And even then that life will fail to sustain
The new ecosystem it has created;
Leaving that worthless bony frame to
Dissolve into dust, melting
Into the filthy cosmos.
I will find my meaning in the Earth not on it.
But alas! ‘Twill be too late.
Hera will have ta’en me to her bosom, like a
Grieving mother to her lifeless babe.
Perhaps one day my new matron will
Plant me, like a seed, into the land
I once knew. I could return as an
Oak tree, mushroom or weed.
And live amongst the soft, emerald
Pastures. Replacing tall, mighty
Skyscrapers with majestic points of green.
For every house or building that lines the city
Streets, there are bushes, hollows and nooks
Where the gentle folk meet. And there I’ll be
to welcome, love and greet.
For in this new life we are all
Connected by the roots of mother’s
Warm embrace. And forever more it
Shall be a safe, secure space.
So to this life I shall go, but to you I wish to say.
If on this Earth you face a challenge,
Remove it from your way.
Be not afraid of life, live it while you can.
Enjoy each precious moment, fulfil each
Dream or plan.
So when Death comes to greet you,
you will not hide or cower.
And when you find me we can dance
In April’s golden shower.