If (meaning when, of course), I die,

I want to see trees against a deep blue sky.

Green leaves waving in a summer breeze,

Red flowers, orange, white, and please

Let me see song birds, plumed with fletch;

Fronds of vibrant nature on wings that stretch.

I’ve had my time to grow, impress,

And leave my mark; no more, no less,

As next generations move the world

Through countless iterations of the cosmic field,

And subtlety change its condensed shield,

To accept me back. My fate is sealed.

Questions fade, calm descends

What, why and who, reach their end.

The field expands, absorbs my soul,

The role and the goal, the torment and the toll,

Extinguish, and fade into their private black hole. 

With a delicate sigh I now know why.

As I die.

Under a tree against a deep blue sky.