Footprints in the Windsm # 910
Footprints in the Windsm # 910
What if our death were not an end
Nor a beginning over again
In angelic realms?
What if it were a culmination,
A fruit, a seed, a chrysalis,
Exploding colors, sounds, flavors,
Aromas—A Big Bang:
And here we are a dot in
Someone’s death!
Please pass it on.
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