When I die,
Don’t cover my grave with stones or epitaph.
Let me feel the seasons on my skin.
Don’t tend it everyday. Let life take over.
Let weeds grow–Wildflowers of every colour,
So, you’d think of me in death
as in life–
A splash of wild colour in a bleak world.
When I die,
Don’t bring fresh flowers everyday.
I won’t meet you, anyway.
I’ll be somewhere sitting in a sunny nook,
Thinking of a lost song or an old book.
So, you, too, better move on.
Let life take over.
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 
Beautiful sentiments, Shaily.
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Thank you, Don! 😃
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Wise words.
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Thank you, Lauren. Death is difficult for families in many ways. The pain, the hassle of both religious and government procedures, the new responsibilities…The least I can do is to help them move on.
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That is a good/kind way to help.
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