Anything at all in this creation,
A miraculous sensation,
The moons the stars,
All of it the senses jars,
Every flower, every bee,
All that you in nature see,
Whales and tiny creatures,
With all their different features,
Gladly part of me I’ll give,
In all I am proud to live,
Flower, bee, or tree,
And share them all with me,
So if you think that barren thoughts,
Of death would frighten me, or God’s,
To share myself with all there is,
That to me is heaven’s bliss,
So spread my ashes, bury me,
Deep below that willow tree,
Whatever happens then?
Be I tree or wren,
None of it will I dismay,
Still I be, the kaleidoscope at play,
That from beginning to the end,
At every turn does life me lend,
Though worried much I’d be,
Think less of rose or bee,
Than myself, and think myself the end of all,
Save me lord, then, my God would call.©23/01/2010
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Much Love,
Margaret
P.S. Thank you for stopping by much appreciated!
Georg
George C.