When I am gone, my last slow breath
Adrift in the room’s stillness there,
Do not weep, nor seek, nor deny…
Where Death has come, in darkest depth,
I’ve risen thence into night’s air,
And Hunters lift me up to fly…
So find me in whispers of winds
That shake the cottonwoods; in light
From endless stars on coldest eves.
Hear singing- my voice- there adrift
On tides crashing in with the night.
See green- my eyes- in summer leaves.
And knowing wildness, you’ll know best:
I’ve flown with Hunters ever west…