Let Me Die Softened

This is a Belated Response to an Imagà Imaginings prompt.

Photo Credit: Imagà Imaginings on Medium.

Let me die softened,
Like the feather 
That floats
Or satin sheets
On a welcomed bed.

When I leave this place
Let the rough edges
Be smooth — 
Rounded and curved,
Like a grandmother’s arms.

May my hard thoughts,
The unyielding ones,
Effortlessly float
Like clouds
Against a blue sky.

When I go forward
Into the unknown 
May my vessel 
Be soft and supple,
Like a child’s beloved bear.

If this life has one purpose,
Let it be to teach 
How to yield
To the winds of change and 
Detours in our path.

Let this life break 
The hard pieces, 
Wash away the grit,
Leaving only soft, 
Sparkling sand.

May my body transform
To it’s infancy — 
May my muscles
Become pillows,
And my sinew 
Become silk.

I arrived vulnerable
And thrashing, 
May I leave vulnerable
And accepting,
Ready to let go.

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