Member-only story
At my funeral say words
not of who I was
but who you will be.
Not of what I did
But what you will do.
Friends, family gather to testify:
“Here lies a
building block,
stepping stone,
a beloved red brick
in a yellow-brick road.
We too shall journey and see
visions and dreams to great to believe. . .
that which seemed impossible become reality!”
Response to Sylvia Wohlfarth’s poem — read it and the backstory here:
