The Recycling Process
Where will your children pay you a visit? My sister asked.
She is creeped out because I will have no headstone.
No one lives in the cemetery I tell her.
She nods “I know, but….”
At this point I know that she kind of thinks that people do.
This is where I will be when my poems and my paintings stop.
I will be in the smiles of my family and friends.
I will be in the serving tray of scalloped potatoes.
I will be in the clouds, the trees, the flowers and the rain.
I will be a part of the God-mind, doing what I can to uplift and revitalize.
I will be doing what I do here, except on the other side of the veil.
I will inspire hope and love and light.
I will encourage enthusiasm and joy.
I will do the best teaching I have ever done
Until I am recycled, returning as my great-grandchild
When I will start the process all over again.
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