Sunday, December 5, 2010
For The Death Of Me
that I wonder if the memory of me
shall wake into tomorrow’s sunrise
or will I fade into the distant echoes
of what once was, barely to be recognized.
All I hope is the flowers laid down upon
my life will stay fresh and beautiful
in the hearts of those who knew me true.
I want each rose to be a symbol of my love;
each tulip sprouting anew, a recognition
of my constant growth. I want each
Lilly to be the fragrance of my heart
as each daffodil will enrich the soil
of my being.
But perhaps if those flowers shall
be just a faded mark of my existence,
I will still have been a presence in the eyes
of those who have admired and even
in those who may have less desired.
So for the death of me I do not scare
for to truly live life is not to fear
as through all glimpses of my memory
I will always be here.
Tarringo T Vaughan