Rest in Peace

for Liz

Rest in peace, they say.

Rest in wildness, I say.

Better still, never rest at all.

Like the shark that never stops moving,

swim in the waves,

dance in the wind,

run ahead of the storm,

turn with every current,

glide across the night sky as a falling star,

pelt like fat, tropical rain,

saunter like early snowflakes,

sear like lightning,

soar like a rainbow,

float on the air,

until you become the elements,

formless ashes reshaping like a pixellated screen,

the missing piece of the jigsaw puzzle:

in an endless,

ceaseless,

eternal life concerto.

Reproduced from Place, SWG Anthology 2022.