Scented breeze brushes
spring flower whispers
past my ear.
Warm sun caresses
kissing my cheek
as a new day rises.
Peacefully against a cedar
veins opened wide
all that remains pours
into loving soil.
Nature, Earth, Gaia
she can take even
my rotting corpse
and blossom.
How much more could
be done with
one which lives.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
On a Sunny Day
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