If they should bury me apart from you,
Who loved you well through years too brief for love;--
Whose parting then was marked by pain and rue--
If they should think my heart unconscious of
Deep grief, or my mute body all unknowing
Because so powerless to guide their feet
To your bright hill where desert winds are blowing,
Aroma-fraught from fields, remote and sweet;
If then some fragment of your earthly form
Should drift atop the mound that marked your place,
And view afar a sand-filled, spiral storm,
It would discover in that cloud my face.
Your dust, Beloved, would rise and dance with glee,
Another whirlwind, cognizant of me.
The textured whirlwind image was created from the really boring photo of tonight's Full Buck Moon . . . using features in the free programs, Picasa and IrfanView . . . please do share with me if you use this for something . . . I would like to see what ideas you come up with . . .