I will return to the sea someday
to divest everything given me.
I will throw my eyes in the waves
that loved them so much,
and let the sea bring them back
for someone else.
I will sheer my hair
and let the wind gather it
to make wings.
It was kissed by lips
that cherished it and me.
Let someone else wear it.
I will return my hands
to lift rocks and play music.
They were workmen hands
that felt love and parted books,
and adored cheeks between their palms
that shone with the luster of apples.
I will let my heart swim away,
which never deserted me,
but went on beating
so full of care I learned
its faith,
and why I was put here
on the earth.
I’ll lay my legs gently
on the ground and let them rest,
sleep, so deserving for carrying me,
and next to them my shoulders
for the weight they bore
as life went on,
but remained erect
and gave me dignity.
And my voice
I will to shells,
I can not silence it.
It wants to go on,
to sing forever
so I pray that it can.
I give it to anyone that needs it
and it will never say no
or have regrets.
So I return myself to the sea
appreciating everything given
and made better by my life,
with my heart’s gratitude
of good measure.