Renaissance

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I hope that when I leave,

The sweetest sound flies through the air.

Silhouettes of nature will remind you of me.

I wonder will I be the bird perched upon the branch whose rhymes echo so beautifully.

I wonder will I be a cloudless sulphur who wanders the Earth leaving a pathway of bewitchery.

I wonder will I be a tall oak tree as tall as the stars with roots that spread like the sea.

I wonder will I be a flower named Zinnia you find blooming in your garden one day unexpectedly.

I hope I come back as a kind word that heals your injuries.

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