Faith: Believing that what is beyond one
is also above one; that one, however,
is of that; that one’s inward eyes are ever
smiling with pleased awe at the touch of sun
one moves in and is; that no life is done,
ever, no work; even the stillborn, clever,
odd, the suicides, live on, cannot sever
themselves from the whole, the glittering run.

O plant a tree in memory of me,
make of my body a sparse ring of ashes
to benefit the ground around that tree,
make of my bones and flesh a memory
in the grassy earth where the chipmunk dashes,
in the trunk, limbs, branches, twigs,
slick green slashes!