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The Last Conversation of a Dying Father To His Son MAG
May 21, 2021
When I die, take care of your mum,
don't stand by my grave to cry
I see everything, they say that I'm dead,
but I don't sleep, it's a lie
Find me in a thousand winds that blow,
in the flakes of snow
I am in the happiness which falls like rain,
I am in the fields of ripening grain
I am the bird that sings, I come in dreams
to say a thousand splendid things
I am the rotten night where as you
are a morning, you have to live without me.
© Ellen K., Baldwin Park, CA
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