final wish…
I wish you to chisel Latin on my headstone,
a dead phrase for a dead man but maybe
incognita enough to spur curiosity in a future
heir, to rouse wanderlust in her loins so she
returns home to rummage for its meaning
among my old books, on a page dog-eared
by me for her, her I dreamed but never met.
per freta hactenus negata –
to have negotiated a strait the very existence of which has been denied.
Chisel the words so my great granddaughter
might then live haunted by a dead man and the
cusp, and inherit courage for unknown waters.
I just subscribed to your blog recently. These last three postings have been so beautiful and poignant as to move me to tears. Your writing is poetic. It stirs the heart.
Thank you, Melinda…
Perhaps your best one, John. Stunning! Is this really you writing?
Thanks, Steve…not sure I understand your question, but yes, this is really me.
Beautiful and stunning. I love to wander cemeteries and wonder about the people beneath the stones. Sometimes it’s not only the heirs looking for meaning. This is incredible.
Thank you, Lizzie…I, too, love to wander graveyards…
I…just…wow. yeah. Thank you.
David, I appreciate you taking the time to stop in and read…and leave those words.
incredible. absolutely.
Deb, thank you for your comment.