I remember my life after death
where my body no longer struggles
against the struggles which a body longs for
thrown into the pool where fear plays.
Playful fear splashes in the neighbor's pool
making cries mocking the pull of drowning.
The mockingbird cries pulling drowning
sorrows into the radiance of blue.
Blue radiates, mirroring the drops of sorrow
upon the neat page listing summer plans.
Summer pages turn neatly as plans list
according to the number of joyful shouts.
I shout with joy counting the number
of times I live after the memory of death.
A Thread You Follow 