Heaven and Earthworms

I have given many a thought to what happens when we die, specifically, what happens to our bodies. You have the option to be classically buried, cremated, donated to science. I think I don't want to be cremated, kept in a jar or the specks of my former self thrown across water. I think I don't want to donate myself to science, lying on a cold metal slab for years. I think I don't even want to be buried, at least not traditionally, set in a wooden or metal box marked by a plain slab of stone. I want to be buried in the forest, no casket, no headstone. Mark my resting place by flowers, wrap my body in leaves and let me melt into the ground, decaying alongside bones of animals forgotten, let birdsong be my funeral organ, let the willows do the weeping, let the toadstools and earthworms feast themselves on my corpse. And let it be that my soul does not rise to heaven above nor to hell below, rather seeps into the soil, into the seeds and moss, allows the remnants of my earthly form to grow into beauty once again. 

Posted in response to the challenge Wonder.

GertietheGremlin

VT

16 years old

More by GertietheGremlin

  • Escape

    With the curtains thrown wide 

    we see the world gray 

    and we know it's the fault of our own 

     

    Spent far too long 

    bearing crown, sword, and shield 

  • Pen Pal

    I write in pen

    to get comfortable with my mistakes

    to catch all my thoughts

    scatterbrained

    and fleeting

    pens scratch the itch to write

    better than any graphite

    the use of ink before pencils 

  • Where Life Begins

    I never thought I'd be 16

    nor thought the grass would still be green.

    At 5 I met my oldest friends

    who I still talk to now and then.

    At 6 and 7, all through 10

    Nostalgic blurs remain of them.