May I never not be frisky,
May I never not be risque.
May my ashes, when you have them, friend,
and give them to the ocean
leap in the froth of the waves,
still loving the moment,
still ready, beyond all else,
to dance for the world.
Mary Oliver, from Evidence
2 comments:
Steam...we may end up a bucket of ashes, but since this old bod has been 97% water, that's just a lot of steam returning to the atmosphere! So I like that most of me will become rain, fog, snow, ice and rivulets dripping off leaves, soaking down to roots, then tumbling over rocks.
Barbara, I just love the idea of being rain or fog, maybe even snow.
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