Rest: A Poem

If I could get

any closer

to the ground

I'd be in my

grave...

A body's gasp like

a sad laugh, a curious

tickled sound

caught between tears -

wondering again what

the matter was, what it

could be.

All along the way

I'm humbled by

grace and

graced by nature's

humility.

No choice of mine

but a present given;

an everlasting

flame, diminishing

to soft ash and sweet smoke

that reaches higher

dissipating gently from the

worn and treaded earth.