Epitaph
Flesh bordered lace
with sorrow's face,
I sense your presence
above:
Cheeks flushed,
a fever of grace and love
from where you stand;
and the sparse salt
of your eyes,
mingled in water-brushed begonias
from your hand
with gentle sighs.
Beneath velvet leaves
and strings of grass woven
in beauty,
I sink slowly;
dissolving satin, bone, and shard,
the frame of those
who last viewed me
since worldly disregard.
I plead you to say:
Why do you stray
from your path
to read this epitaph?
Did your eyes befall
a stone unknown,
etched in meaning
you long to call
your own?
"In passing, dear traveler, know this:
I seep to secure
I crack to create
I leak to procure future's fate everlasting
through solemn earthen kiss."
Be assured, I know your mind.
The purpose you seek
in the vital world
will be found,
a smile at last unfurled
in final resting ground;
Both peaceful
and resigned.
Copyright © Michele Godleske | Year Posted 2006
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