Do not dare carve my name on some cold stone
When I am gone; I shall not sleep for long,
Though flesh may rot and moulder in my grave,
Since, unconstrained by space and time and shape,
I shall fly free, as drifting snowflakes swirl
Or thistledown floats on the summer air
To rest a moment in the memory,
Then fade to silence, transient as woe
When teardrops dry to dust in laughter’s sun
But still remembered in their salty glow.

Do not dare carve my name on some cold stone
When I am gone, I’ll write my name myself:
Around the corner of some country lane;
Across the street; upon a folded page;
In the next room; beyond the half-closed door,
But if you look for me, I’ll not be there,
For fresh new destinations call me on
To reach for shining stars in death’s dark night.
But breathe that word and I’ll return so swift
To take my place in recollection’s light.

C Richard Miles

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/do-not-dare-carve-my-name/