Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust

Post Humus

Scatter my ashes in my garden
so I can be near my loves.
Say a few honest words,
sing a gentle song,
join hands in a circle of flesh.
Please tell some stories
about me making you laugh.
I love to make you laugh.

When I've had time to settle
and green gathers into buds,
remember I love blossoms
bursting in spring.
As the season ripens
remember my persistent passion.

And if you come in my garden
on an August afternoon,
pluck a bright red globe,
let juice run down your chin
and the seeds stick to your cheek.

When I'm dead I want folks to smile
and say, "That Patti, she sure is
some tomato!"

                                                   -Patti Tana

The last line of this poem always makes me smile.  A little humor in the midst of grief combined with an affirmation of life in spite of death, it's much appreciated.  (If you click on the title of the poem it will take you to the poet's website, and you'll be able to listen to her reading of the poem.)

The architect Katrina Spade has an idea that goes several steps beyond scattering the ashes of the dead in a garden.  Click on the last word in this sentence and the link will take you to a podcast of The Current, during which Spade lays out her proposal regarding composting the dead.

My family has my permission to compost me.  I love the idea of turning into earth. Granted, I don't dwell on the bugs and worms part of the decomposition process.  Instead I imagine the final product, the rich, nutrient-filled top soil; so necessary for the flourishing of life. Contributing to that end, even after my end, feels true.