Whatever files/photos/curios/memorabilia/gedcoms I might wish to pass on I have no family to pass them on to. So much for material things.
Spiritually, I'd want to leave behind the feeling of pride that I have when I think of my Scottish and Canadian ancestry.
I'd want to leave these wee poems:
1)
A brief moment in Eternity.
While walking the dog I chanced to be
Down beside the deep blue sea
And gazed across this precious land
As we lay contented on golden sand
A brief moment in Eternity.
2)
"I am the sum of many parts"
I am the sum of many parts
Collected together since Time began.
All those genes flow from Adam and Eve
Not to forget Oor Jock Thomson and his bairns.
This is Nature's Book - The Book of Life, wherein
Our generations are its chapters.
With each generation a new Dawn comes
And just as surely night will follow day.
Are not our lives but words upon
The pages that make up The Book of Life?
Our events the punctuations in the text
We term as History.
What makes us so different
From those that went before?
And what of Evolution?
To what do we evolve?
What do we leave behind for others
When our Day has become Night?
More genes, words on a page?
What else?
3)
TREE of LIFE
Oh Tree of Life so tall and strong
With roots sunk deep in history,
Each limb a mark of Man's endeavour
And leaves the sign of growth.
In reaching up towards the sky
It shows the path to destiny.
Bending with each wind of change
Ravaged by the storms of time.
Its needs seem so few
While it offers so much.
(May I be your Tree of Life?)
Oh Tree of Life so safe and sound
A haven for so many,
Giving solace to weary souls
Who rest beneath your boughs,
As breezes rustle through your leaves
Making music pleasant to the ears.
(May I be your Tree of Life?)
From such a small and precious seed
You grow through Nature's care,
Past Man's allotted span of years
Upright, steadfast and true.
(May I be your Tree of Life?)
4)
Journey
Teardrops fall onto dry skin –
Many have gone before.
Their meeting –
A fleeting
Part of history.
Raindrops fall onto dry bed rock –
Others have gone before.
Their meeting –
A fleeting
Part of history.
Dewdrops fall onto dry brown grass –
Like those that fell before.
Their meeting –
A fleeting
Part of history.
Each journey begins with that single drop –
A journey that never ends.
Rain that rolls down dry slopes –
Flows in a lemming rush –
Who’ve done it all before.
Ahead and beyond,
Across and around,
Drop becomes pool,
Pool becomes stream,
Stream becomes river,
River becomes sea,
Sea becomes cloud –
Which falls as drops.
5)
Haiku
If it suits our mood
Haiku makes creative thoughts
Seasoning the mind.
James.