By: centraljersey.com
I don’t care what happens when I’m dead
If only I could see again
A skein of geese go wavering overhead.
If my flesh becomes thin air,
Finding a place for viewing will be hard.
When formless, there’s no such thing as focusing
And heaven is as close as my backyard.
So I must look my fill of geese today,
Revel now in their eager calling,
Shout out my answer to their cry –
And watch until the last wing’s beating
Becomes sky.
– Virginia Chapman Lockwood

