When I die I want to come back as ME,
Taking form of a woodland sprite, clothed in mist, who cares for a tree.
Our silhouettes write a poem on the sky at dusk, when the cool breeze whispers, and sways the trees, while light fades from the forest.
I will be free to take my leave and travel to far flung places and dimensions, and under the sea.
I'll be close to the love of god, like rays of sun that warm air and earth.
But I'll still be me and I'll be free.
(15 Jan 2013)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem