Walk in the Woods

Nik Curfman 12/2/20 Nik Curfman 12/2/20

Abstraction: What They Say

When they shovel dirt on my cold body, I want them to say,

He lived. He loved. And he never gave up.

He gave me warmth when I was cold, light when I was blind,

And he put my hand in the hand of the Flame.

When we gather around a loved one gone dark,

We put aside their ugly flaws.

We celebrate what they brought to the world,

the light shining through them.

It is certain, some men shine brighter than others, for longer, to the benefit of more.

But every man and woman is a candle in search of the Flame.

I don’t know how bright I shine,

But who does?

I don’t know if my light will grow or fade, or how long I’ve got left.

But, I plan to stand and suffer the fate of a man willing to flicker in the dark,

when the night is long empty, the wind is strong, and my soul wants to yield.

May I stand and shine.

When they shovel dirt on my cold body, I want them to say,

He lived. He loved. And he never gave up.

He gave me warmth when I was cold, light when I was blind,

And he put my hand in the hand of the Flame.