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Scatter my ashes upon the wild moors, he said where as a boy I wandered but scatter them far and wide for in those days this was my world my playground Hedgerows, trees and I grew tall together there, he said tender saplings upon which I carved your name stand tall and graceful now sturdy enough to face the fiercest storm Endless sheep have grazed contented those windswept slopes and lambs have perished on cold and frosty nights when no hedgerow is sufficient sanctuary
Each year I have watched the endless cycle of life and death and without fail given thanks each Spring for the miracle of rebirth and understood that this is how it was meant to be nothing to last forever but gathered up in nature's loving arms and put to use once more So scatter my ashes upon the wild moors, he said that I should rest in peace but visit me now and then and see how nature ha once again transformed death to life
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The ocean seems rather tired this evening sighing as it washes slowly over sand at the end of a long and weary day The effort seems almost too much Even pebbles that on the morning tide would have yielded gladly to the flow now offer resistance to the gentle ripples Wind has ceased there is peace a calm tranquility a golden glow created by the setting sun now stretches from horizon to my naked feet pervades the very air I breath and draw deeply into my lungs There is a closeness, a on-ness, a unity into which no insidious thought would dare intrude And in this personal ad private moment I and my creator communicate
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