Upon my stone, a single raven´s plume,
Upon night´s mantle, plaintive owl´s tune,
Wrapped in robe of clay´s wet soggy sod,
Asleep, embracing hand´s last tossed clod.

And from where I once had sadly sat,
Now only flies the lonely, twilight bat,
I plead, you don´t in this place stay,
Where you daily come to kneel & pray.

Although you say I´m sorely missed,
I´m now gone in time´s gossamer mist,
In the place where once I used to bleed,
There now grows a new tender seed.

I have returned to my home the earth,
Where it starts again some-day in birth,
Prone, lying within my final tomb,
Ensconced in earth´s warm dark womb.

© Sue Lobo

Excerpt from the book “The Last Dance”

http://www.ctupublishinggroup.com/sue-lobo.html
• Also available on Amazon.com by Title

Photo Credit: © Charlie Harding/Robert Harding World Imagery/Corbis