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Bind my head, place coins upon my eyes,

Carry my willow coffin to the sea;

Build my pyre at the turning tide

To let the gentle flames set my soul free.

        Pour the oil and set the wine,

        Sprinkle salt and break the bread,

        Share the fruits that have been gathered;

        Do not mourn that I am dead.

As smoke drifts up towards the rising moon

The ashes settle and the sea is calm,

Let me melt away into the night

Until there is nothing for the dawn.

        Nothing save a memory

        The sum of all the hours passed

        A clutch of fading images

        Disappearing like the grass

For you will thrive though I have left this place

To generate the truth which we have known

Touching lives and healing all who come

To celebrate the love which was our own.

Bind my head, place coins upon my eyes,

Carry my willow coffin to the sea;

Build my pyre at the turning tide

To let the gentle flames set my soul free.

Brian Hick March 2015

©copyright Sally Hick 9.3.26 

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Saturday

The grass still grows, the tree tops calmy sway

While dawn's dull light soothes away the darkness.

You are not here; your life now ebbed away

And all that I can see is emptiness.

I thought that you would always be by me,

The stronger one, to stop me running wild

But now I am alone I have to see

That time has passed for thinking like a child.

Yet I recall you said that childlike thought

Was closer to the truth than adult ways

And openness to all the world has taught

Would bring enlightenment to final days.

          But how I miss your voice, your laugh, your love

          And would not trade them in for heaven above.

Brian Hick 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 8.5.23