When I Die

A poem for the times...

Bury me
beneath an old oak tree
amongst willowy ferns
in a forest green.

The moon at night
shines brighter there
and the scent of honeysuckle
fills the air.

And when you come
to visit me
you can rest your head
against that old oak tree.

But do not weep
for I’m not really gone
the love we share
will linger on.

Author's Note

With so many people dying around the world it is difficult not to think of end of life scenarios. I have always thought that I would like to be buried in a memorial forest surrounded by beautiful trees and wild flowers.

Reviews

[Ayesha]

A beautiful afterlife of love. I find here, a very peaceful death—peaceful because life was too chaotic and too turbulent—bringing back harmony to the soul, just the way your rhyming pattern percolated harmony to the poem.

[Dara]

Thank you for your very insightful review. You definitely understood what I was trying to convey. Going back to nature after a chaotic life to restore the soul, beautifully said. Many thanks!

[Ayesha]

My pleasure.

[Betty Hermelee]

love overcomes everything ,even death, and we think of death more often now than ever because of Covid. Your lovely description of your future burial site reminds me of where my parents are buried, under a pretty shade tree on a hillside. Because my sister got the last spot, I chose to be cremated, not nearly as graceful, but practical. Very vivid images Dara..."honeysuckle fills the air'
Fondly, Betty

[Dara]

Your parents resting place sounds lovely, in peaceful surroundings to visit and recall precious memories. Yes, I think it’s important to be practical too. As the Bible says in Genesis, “for dust though art and unto dust shalt thou return.” Thank you so much for your visit and words of understanding. Great to see you. Be safe!

[Betty Hermelee]

You’re very welcome!