What I Will Remember When I Die. (poem)

I'm sitting outside. There is no one around. There is only silence. The breath of the early evening breeze and the gentle blooming of my thoughts. There is only wicked rhythm as my pen hits the page, and I think, as I feel, as I root further & deeper, into my heart.... 

This kind of real. 

This is what I'll remember when I die.... 

Not noise. 

Not who people wanted me to be. 

Not who I felt I was expected to be. 

I will not remember any of that. 

I will remember

This.

This moment spent alone, outside, in the palms of the evening breeze. 

I will remember

This. 

These subtle, precious, freeing moments of being so present

That I can't help but cry

As my soar souls

So delicately

As the breeze

Allows me to

Silently.

Unfold. 

All there is---

Here

And

Now

And

Me. 

his is what I will remember when I die. 

Not noise. 

Not who people wanted me to be. 

Not what I felt I was expected to be. 

This. 

 

 

Photo: Flickr, https://flic.kr/p/6H4SQk