When Death Comes ( After Mary Oliver )

When death comes,  
let them say I mastered      
the anatomy of words,    
that my life was poetry.      
Let them say I humbled    
that bulwark of ego—      
that bane of pride,      
leaving a quiet legacy.      
Not with the flying colors      
of a Rainbow lorikeet      
capturing its beholder's eye;      
but, a female cardinal—      
her lackluster appearance      
ensuring the nest survives.    
Let them, despite my human      
mistakes and many faults,    
say I at least loved poetry—    
that my Spirit became a poem, a bird,      
a cardinal nesting in a cup of words.      
Written by Ahavati
Published | Edited 30th Jan 2019
Author's Note
In remembrance of Mary Oliver - one of the most influential poets in the history of poetry, and one of the greatest mentors who ever penned.
September 10, 1935 – January 17, 2019
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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