Upon death,
we become in spirit form
entities,
curated by the actions of our prior existence,
unseen, unheard, unnoticed, unknown.
Be vigilant, amongst
the bristling leaves of
a majestic tree,
the vengeful wrath of a turbulent storm
the comfortable roll of an ebbing tide,
the mesmeric crackle of a licking flame.
Be aware that
your spirit will mark you early
and tirelessly bide its time
for you to pass the mortal rubicon,
when it comes to claim
its rightful prize
quintessence.
© Graham Sherwood 11/2017
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