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Writer's pictureNeil Gordon

A Symphony of Leaves

MY FOREST BURIAL

My essence lingered in the forest’s warm, amber embrace, a silent observer of the earthly ceremony below. Ancient and wise trees stood as guardians over my family, their grief a palpable mist amidst the crisp embrace of fall. I was once known as Craig, a man of flesh and bone. Now, transformed, I existed as a consciousness witnessing the closure of my terrestrial tale.

 

Beneath me, a plain pine casket lay, a humble vessel holding the remnants of my physical existence. It appeared so trivial, juxtaposed against the forest’s eternal majesty. My nephew, carrying the weight of the moment, stepped forward. His voice, rich with emotion, surged through the gathering, a rivulet of solace for the mourning crowd.

 

Leaves, ablaze with the life force I had left behind, danced on a rogue breeze, descending upon the casket in a tender act of reclamation by the earth from which I sprang. Each prayer and remembrance wove the fabric of my past to the present, life to the legacy. The bare branches of the surrounding trees bowed in the solemn understanding of life’s cyclical dance.

 

The forest air, thick with autumn’s ripe essence, hummed with an unseen vibrancy as if it were a conductor of life’s most profound symphony, harmonizing the tangible with the unseen. Hovering in this liminal space, my gaze fell upon the circle of my kin, their faces etched with the story of our shared journey.

 

My mother stood resilient, a pillar of quiet strength amidst the storm of grief, her presence a soothing balm to the raw edges of heartache. Beside her, my daughter, the light of my life, glowed with a beauty that transcended the somber occasion, her innocence a stark contrast to the wisdom of the trees that sheltered us.

 

My brother’s presence was as unwavering as the ancient trunks that bore witness to our solemn gathering, his support a steadfast force that had anchored our family through life’s tempests. My sister’s hands moved with grace, tenderly weaving the threads of our heritage into the tapestry of the moment, her actions a silent ode to our ancestral lineage and the faith that had been our guiding star.

 

And there, the heart of my heart, my wife stood, her love a beacon that shone with an intensity that rivaled the sun’s rays filtering through the canopy. Her devotion, a testament to the depth of our bond, remained fierce and gentle, a promise kept with every breath until my journey’s end.

 

With every leaf that fluttered downward, a cascade of memories fell into place, creating a mosaic of my journey. Each one was a tale, a touch, a testament to my life and the lives I had intertwined with. The forest floor, now a canvas of goodbyes, held the imprints of my being, soon to enfold the shell I once inhabited.

 

Gazing skyward, where branches stretched toward the heavens like open arms, I perceived the threshold to the heavenly realms unfolding before me. The heavenly spheres awaited there, their celestial songs guiding me toward the next phase of my existence. Unbound by earthly tethers, my spirit soared, ready to embark on an odyssey amongst the stars.

 

The symphony of the forest orchestrated this profound adieu; each notes a whisper of the eternal cycle of life, death, and renewal. The woods cradled my family and me in their timeless wisdom, offering comfort in the face of mortality’s stark truth.

 

As my family voiced their final farewells, I was enveloped in tranquility. The beauty of the mortal world I departed shimmered in the teardrops and smiles of those gathered in my honor. In the heart of the woodlands that had echoed with my laughter and harbored my dreams, my spirit found liberation.

 

Surrounded by the tender ballet of descending leaves, I bid farewell to the earthly plane. My soul, now ascendant, joined the celestial tapestry, leaving behind the resonance of a life fully embraced and a love that transcended the confines of the veil.

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