When, how or where we are born
Matters in which we have no choice… and
Dying is something we do
All alone…
At the appointed time...
In the when and the why of the thing,
We may or may not
Have a voice
But it is these
Hard and Wonder-full
Seconds… Minutes… Hours… Days…
Between
The moment we’re born
And
The moment we die
This accumulation of lessons and experiences
Known as
Life
These are the moments
To make a difference!
To share smiles and tears
To halve our worries
To help shoulder our loads
To make lighter
The Moments of Strife
Don’t give me flowers
When I am dead
Give me my flowers
Now
And don’t be heart-broken
When I leave
If in your heart
When I arrive
There is no smile
Don’t “fall out” or swoon... or
Hug my casket and wail
Rent your clothes... and with ash,
Your head,
Anoint
Because
If you have the chance to be loving
Right now
But do not…
Could be supportive
Right now
But choose to not…
Beloved
You’re missing the point...
I’ve got nothing but love
And will love just as much
And for just as long
As allowed…
So don’t give me flowers when I am dead
Give me my flowers
Now