Evanescent

When I die, it will be beautiful.
soft and quiet
like the animals

 I am not afraid.
steadfast and certain
like the trees

 I will be more than myself.
intricate and endless
like the night sky

I learn from the land
over and again
like a spider spinning

 and from the seasons
beginning and ending
like our cells

 and if I lay still, from the earth.
fevered and aching
like a virus

 
I learn from their passing.
requisite and subtle
like a breath

 We are passing.
swift and secret
like the wind

 Our universe: evanescent.
abstract and haunting
like a mist

 
We return what we borrowed.
grateful and resigned
like the living

 We return to our origin.
vast and mysterious
like mycelium

 We return from the darkness.
bright and warm
like the sun

(Winner of the 2026 Nutmeg Poetry Contest)