Ashes of Arcadia

Let go my ash on a windy day, From a cliff near the edge of the sea. Mingled forever with the friends I have loved, For all time, now together . . now free. And I promise we'll scatter both hither and yon, In places you'd all like to be. In patches of broom-moss on Arcadian shores; In the midst of the songs of the sea. With the froth and the foam and the fresh salt air And the glint of the sun on the brine. My spirit rejoices in the beauty about, Though not captured in life . . is now mine. The dark turns the day into time for more play, Under star twinkling gems from deep space. Or perhaps they'll be mist and the touch of a kiss, Of a time yet to come . . and a place. Yes; we'll bide by this shore till the earth is no more And the sea gives up every last soul. Until heaven appears drying all good men's tears And as promised . . at last we are whole.