Among the wildflowers

Apologies if this sounds a little morbid. I was walking past the grave yard, out on a walk, and it was being tidied, with the grass all neat, and the headstones shiny. And it struck me, that’s not what I’d want at all for me (hopefully not for many, many years!). This little poem wrote itself in my head as I walked.

Among the Wildflowers

do not bury me in a pristine graveyard
with neat headstones
and freshly mown grass

scatter me to the wind
let me rush with the water
let me dance with the breeze

leave me in the wildest place

let me rest among the wildflowers
and lie beneath the trees

let me sink deep into the dark earth
and return in the spring
in a seedling of hope

There were many Cuckooflowers to enjoy on our walk. They are my absolute favourite spring flower. Please enjoy them with me:

Hope my words and photos convey how I feel about the beautiful nature around me, and how I’d like to remain among these lovely wild places.

Inspired by a grave yard, some Cuckooflowers, and the Lens-Artists Photo Challenge #145: Getting to Know You.