After My Death
Then if, after my death,
The world is still as cruel,
Stand on my grave with two feet,
And if a flower were to grow,
Next to my stone,
Step one foot out,
And look upon your peers,
And if you see sadness,
Take the flower from my grave,
And bring it to a stranger,
And if you bring upon that stranger, happiness,
Step the other foot out,
But if the stranger were to walk away,
Pluck the petals, and place them on the soil;
Then if, after my death,
The world is still as cruel,
Stand on my grave with two feet,
And if a hummingbird, lands on my stone,
Take the seeds of a fruit,
And place your hand out,
And if the bird eats from your hand,
Step one foot out,
But if the bird rejects the seeds,
Take them and plant them,
For the hungry can eat them,
Then the world could be made less cruel;
Then if, after my death,
The world is still as cruel,
Stand on my grave with two feet,
But know as you live on,
That each small kind gesture,
Every flower given,
And every seed sown,
Has left a soft imprint on the earth,
For the world may not change,
But our small gestures linger,
And our hopes stay alive,
To pave a kinder path for those to follow.
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