Not yet

A day further away from birth,
I stare at graves I haven’t seen in years.
Halfway here and neither there,
I feel the pulling of the Earth,
she wants my body to endow
what she claims is rightfully hers.
There’s death around me in the Autumn air.
How glad am I to leave this place. For now.

For now I’m safe as I can go,
aware of how, in some, uncounted, years,
one might stare here at my grave,
where weeds and flowers wildly grow.
Earth takes me back where I belong
as this is where we all end up.
It doesn’t matter what they will engrave;
long gone am I by then. Let them be wrong.

I made this picture in the woods here, not on a graveyard. It smelled a bit like rot though!

Comments on: "Not yet" (7)

  1. There was a typo: “were “where it should be “where”. I hope it was the only error or mistake.

  2. Something so true but something I don’t want to think about!! Lol
    Nevertheless it’s a really good poem 🙂

    Love and hugs xx

  3. Oh, this is good!!

    “I feel the pulling of the Earth,
    she wants my body to endow
    what she claims is rightfully hers.”

    I love the atmosphere of the poem, Ina – and have often felt that “pull”.

    • Hi Betty, thank you very much! 🙂 That pull that brings us back with our feet on the ground…. 🙂

  4. That would be a spot I’d like to be buried – so beautiful and peaceful with only poets stopping by to write wonderful words reminding us that we are a part of the earth too…

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