Maybe you were asking in the way you cried,

where it has gone to,

where it has been.

Sometimes a flower cannot bloom 

for lack of adequate light.

All its sweetness

all its luster

all its feminine warmth 

will never burgeon to be seen. 

The question is...

when the unrelenting grasp of that darkness

quells its hope for life,

where does that latent flower go? 

Maybe you were asking in the way you cried,

where I have gone to,

where I have been. 

The answer is...

I am all around you. 

Death can have no edict 

where energy can neither be created

nor destroyed. 

I am converted.

So do not stand at my grave and weep. 

Faith is a thing with feathers. 

It sings at the break of day. 

It finally flies free. 

And I am a bird now.

By Teal Swan