When I retire, I want you to put me out to pasture where I can relax in my favorite environment, in a place where I feel most at home. Set me out in a field where the sweet grass grows long, and the air is scented with its intoxicating incense. Put me in a forgotten place where no one goes anymore, in a field that is no longer important. Put me in a spot where the old wooden fences are falling down, and whatever it is they were keeping in or out has long since been forgotten.
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| Let me relax in the sun. |
When I retire, continue on with things in new and different
ways, but don’t tell me about them. I
don’t need to know them because my old ways still work well, and the quiet
cadence of days gone by gives me solace.
Leave me in my comfortable old field where I know every blade of grass
personally. Face me toward the sunrise
so I can greet each new day with a smile, and then let the last rays of the
setting sun warm my back. I won’t have
to see him to know he’s there. We are old
friends, me and the sun, and I trust him.
When I retire, let me sleep at last as I please, since I was
so busy in my youth. Keep my meadow quiet,
letting in only the forest creatures, the birds, and the insects. Bring us afternoon tea so the animals and I
can catch up on all we missed while I was busy working. Let the old trees grow older and throw their
shadows where they will. It doesn’t
matter anymore how things grow, only that they do grow. And that is enough for me. It is my meadow, after all, and in the end, I
will leave it as wild as I found it.
