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When I Leave

Since my father's passing 7 years ago this January, 2022, writing has become my outlet for grief, my prescription for healing, my passion, and my gift to others who are searching, suffering, longing, and hoping.

Anniversaries of any heartache, but especially deaths of loved ones, always bring one face to face with the reality of time and one's own mortality. So much has changed for me in these last 6 years, yet in so many ways it seems as if it's been in the blink of an eye. I do not fear death, but I do struggle with how quickly time seems to be passing and how much I still want to do and affect before my time is up. All I know for sure is my soul feels called to write, so write I must for there are so many more hearts to reach, so many more spirits in need of nourishment, and an entire world craving connection and love.

This one is for my family and dearest friends, but it could just as easily be for yours as well. I hope it comforts you as you imagine your family without you some day.

When I Leave

Were I today to leave this remarkable earth plane for the mysteries of the spirit world beyond,

wish, I might, to be as the bee to the flower, pollinating your thoughts into blooms,

and as the tide to the ocean, offering rise and flow to the perfection of the earth's breath with yours.

Might that I be as the magnificence of the trees, offering my arms as shaded protection, and my roots as the still hold in life's dizzying spins,

and as the majestic tranquility of the mountains, offering serenity and refuge.

Wish, I might, to be as the water to its flow, connecting everything and everyone,

and as the wind that blows in her whispering messages on a breeze,

and as the clouds in the sky giving soft transport to your dreams.

Or, perhaps, as the blue that colors the sky and as the chlorophyll that makes the grass and leaves green,

and as the sun whose rays warm your chill and light your darkness.

Oh, that I might be as the snow crystals that sparkle their breathtaking beauty into your spirit,

and as the brush that paints the autumn like sunset sky into your peaceful surrender.

Fret not, when comes the time for me to journey on,

for I know you will see me in the promise of every rainbow,

in the awe of every field filled with wildflowers,

and in the gushing spill of every waterfall.

You will feel me in the rhythm of your heart's beat,

in the warmth of your smile's remembrance,

and in the insistence of your nudging to live more fully.

You will hear me in the answers to your questions,

in the babbling of the brook as it speaks to your soul's unrest,

and in the songs of thanksgiving of the birds at dawn.

Fret not when comes the loss of my physical body

for I will be as everlasting as time,

like particles scattered throughout the cosmos,

planting seeds of love and joy in you,

and in nature,

for all of eternity.

©Chris Colyer

Feb. 21, 2019

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