Lay me not beneath the ground,
place me in a tomb of stone.
For when I leave this earthly life,
I never want to be alone.

I want to hear birds singing
in the swaying trees,
And hear the wind whisper
its melodic gentle breeze.

And if you come to visit
by my resting place,
Talk to me I will hear
though I won't see your face.

Do not bring me flowers,
for them I cannot see,
Bring all your troubles,
leave them here with me.

Tell me if it's winter
and if snow is on the ground.
Winter is so silent,
it seldom makes a sound.

But if you never visit,
rest assured I'll understand,
And pray God to watch over you
and hold your hand.

~ Norma Lee Marek ~
© September 12, 1993