LONE STAR REQUIESCAT
When I die bury me down around
the Pedernales, close enough
to feel the cool lick of her
effervescent waters on my feet,
where I can hear the song of the rapids
playing touch-and-go with rocks
polished to perfection.
Let me lie underneath soil rich in
remains of heroes and outlaws,
cowboys and city slickers,
explorers and settlers
from near and distant lands.
Let me taste the mix that made Texas great.
Plant me deep underneath the willows.
Let them brush my grave tenderly
and tickle me with their tendrils,
drink of me and carry my spirit to the wind.
Cover me with bluebonnets and match them
with a wide Texas sky.
Face me toward the east for the early
performance of a showoff Texas sunrise.
Decorate my sky with red-winged blackbirds
and fill my trees with mockingbirds so their
song can fill my ears with familiar sound --
for I have known mockingbirds by name.
Let squirrels cavort above me, horned toads
and lizards sun themselves on my headstone,
white-tailed deer graze at my feet.
Pluck Indian paintbrush to paint my story
in a Texas sunset,
and when I am properly ready, may
a Texas tornado suction my dust into
the atmosphere, my atoms into the heavens,
there to twinkle in a star-spangled Texas sky.
Ruth Hudson Savage ©1999