A garden
Shall I rest my
beaten body,
my weary soul in a
garden not yet grown,
In the mountains
where no one goes
or in valleys
where I pray to the lord.
I have said my
wish for the
day I'm gone,
I have climb
the mountains where
the point is cold
and in search for a land
where peace may flow.
I gather pieces like a
mosaic frame and I
figure out my resting place;
I do not want
a sarcophagus in
a cemetery.
I want to be buried
where there is no noise,
where the wind
blows freely,
where is against the law
forbidden in the
highest point.
Where there's just a
small area to fit my ashes
burned and poured in
a starbucks coffee can.
And where growing
roses, violets, daisies,
lilies and orchids,
make a little garden where
I'll rest my bones.
This is my wish this
is my end,
my immortality
and my farewell on earth.
It is not my time yet,
[...] Read more
poem by Elenushka Toledo
Added by Poetry Lover
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