When life is done, feeble flesh and bone given
To last breath, I will seek solace amongst
Maine’s ocean islands, surf-washed rocky
Shores, solemn stands of spruces, where
My soul can dwell in quiet prayer, restfully
Restored until divine voices call, to ascend
Above binding earthly ties.
Before then, I will embrace dewy evergreens,
Welcoming and thick. Cloud-like, I will drift
O’er crashing waves, immersed in protective
Strength of ageless forests, for they have long
Endured harsh-winter gales, slept in deep snows,
And reveled in broad summer sunlight, earth
Soul of Maine islands, how I love thee now.
Yes, when death comes, to that better place
I will go, as was taught in childhood: heaven,
Angels winging amongst luminescent clouds,
Residing at the foot of God Eternal. Until so
Beckoned, I will seek solitude at His most
Noble of creations, spruce-lined granite, earthly
Salvation, Maine’s majestic ocean islands.