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Poem

When I die, will I fly?
Like a bluebird would fly?
Way up high
Up above in the sky?

Will my view be beneath?
From the ground will I see?
Any bluebirds?
Up high, when I die?

Or, will I be a leaf?
On a big Maple tree..
Swaying to and fro in darkened skies?

Well, I wonder what will?
What will be? What I'll do..
Will I fly?  Or just crawl when I die?

Well, it matters the least 
Of the two,  I may be;
But, what matters the most;
Most to me. 

Should I be in the sky with the greatest of birds;
Matters not, just so your there to see

I may act like its so;
Like I know you'll be there;
I think, I might think, your superman...

But, if I haven't shown;
What you needed to see;
I will pen it in words, so you can.

When this life comes to close 
When the curtain is drawn;
When I look to my left, then my right.

Just as always, you're there;
Never swaying an inch. 
I'm that leaf, hanging on to you tight!

Cuz, I know when this ends
Where're it be,just a storm;
Or, if we live out, our golden years..

Wouldn't it be grand thoughts?
If we both came to be;
In our yard, the same two gorgeous deer ?

If we do. If we don't. 
Should I come back next time;
As a slug, or a slimey old snake 

When I look to my left
Then again to my right
By my side; it's the place you will take.

Though I've often asked "why?"
When you're something so good 
Why choose me and this life, here with me ?

Maybe when lights go out;
And the canvas is blank..
As two bluebirds with birds eye view...We'll see.

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