Petrichor

My parched brown bed begins to soften, under the driving summer rain. The forest is being awakened, along with all my senses. As I prepare, to take my final, breath. Death waits patiently. Wild berries will very soon, begin new life amongst my bones. My bones… Lay me down, on cracked dirt, nothing gold can stay. Let them feast, upon my flesh, as the warm rain falls, as the warm rain… falls. Returning to the earth, I'm manifested in the light…