The Final Voyage
Whenever my thoughts turn toward death,and whatever follows my final moment,
the image comes of one last voyage —
packing a suitcase filled with memories,
gathering the joyful times with those I have loved,
just the happiest moments filling the bag,
leaving space to tuck in some mementos,
the laughter and tears spent with friends.
I’ll need extra bags for the little things:
sunlight fracturing across open water,
the chatter of birds on a summer day,
spotting a wildflower on a hike through woods,
the powerful crash of an ocean wave,
the soft melody of water in a stream,
the bright greens of buds in spring.
If added years allow for extra bags,
then perhaps I’ll pack another
for art that stopped me in my tracks,
for music that made my heart beat fast,
literature that grew my mind
and engineering feats that blew it…
the bags keep adding up.
There is no packing for death,
no preparations to make things ready.
I am the luggage.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
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Written on 2026-06-21 at 17:32
Tags Death Memories
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