|Bio and Links|
I am a freelance photographer, writer, and blogger in Columbia, South Carolina. |
I have the privilege of being a contributor to American Cemetery magazine.
In addition to my blog I'm Having A Thought Here, I have two photography websites:
Jennifer Weber Photography
Angel Funeral Photography
When I am dead, this be my will
To earth I do bequeathe and give
Obstreperous flesh, for flower and wheat
Blithely to eat.
My bones enduring tracery,
I leave to be
Exhibit labelled -- categoric --
Having no need of it, past death,
I give my breath
To air, that is the bird's abode
And the sun's road.
The world -- her Maytime trees that loom
White hills of bloom, --
Her bluebirds like winged iris shaken
Where buds awaken, --
Her cloud-deep skies, or daisy thicket
Shading the cricket, --
I leave to any who, like me,
Has eyes to see.
I give -- if it persists -- my song
To bless and throng
The swift twelve winds of the world that fly
Through all the sky,
Blown -- a winged thistleseed of sound --
Toward its own ground.
I yield that love that tortured me
To any strong enough to bear
Joy of despair.
As for my joy itself, I deed it
To all who need it --
Hitch-hikers, seedy and too grey ...
Or dogs astray
At whom the careless hand has thrown
The careful stone.
Sadness, that made my young heart grave,
I give to save
All of earth's callous ones who go
Unhelped by woe;
My loneliness to everyone
Who seeks the sun.
To my lord, Don Quixote, hurled
Against the world
By his own nobleness, to be
I will my madness -- to increase
His tragic peace.
My cowardice I keep: of such
Men have too much.
To scholars for inheritance,
Pure darkness, eager for truth's white
I deed my laughter to the wise,
To clear their eyes;
And any surplus to a cow --
For she knows how
To moo and put a poker face
On the world's grace,
Making by genial occult powers
Cream out of flowers.
I give my anger and my hate
To wake, though late,
Albino gentle souls that dwell
Meekly in hell;
I will my lazy calm to bless
Who take nine stitches to save one
Best left undone.
I leave my strength to aid the rose
Against the snows;
My patience to the snows that keep
Earth safe asleep.
I give the Dawn for those to take
Who are awake.
Last, I leave Death whatever he
Can hold of me.
= E. Merrill Root =