Monday, 23 June 2014


My ashes you hold, between your fingers, soft shifting,

Lifting upon the breath of breezes, away & now drifting,

That is not me, I´m no longer here & I´m no longer there,

I’m no longer of flesh, of bone, of blood, of nail & long hair.


Please blow my ashes, upon your sweet whispers of love,

So they may float free, upon winds to blue heavens above,

Please listen to them singing, their freedom´s sweet song,

And through their soft hymns, I shall make you feel strong.


Blow my old ashes over hills, mountains & spring fields,

That they may settle in rich soil, for harvest´s ripe yields,

Just listen to the poetry; they wax to curling dark roots,

And know that my ashes, shall bring forth all new fruits.


Please blow my sweet ashes, over oceans & far distant seas,

So they may dance upon winds & waltz gently in breeze,

Listen how they’re laughing, as they fly free with the birds,

Now dry your sad tears, there is no need for more words.


Please blow my last ashes, towards the rivers & streams,

So when you deep slumber, you shall see me in dreams,

Now please listen to the wisdom, of my ashes on earth,

And know that ashes to ashes, always nurtures new birth.


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