Sometimes, for eternity

If I could but see again
From this disadvantaged viewpoint,
I would watch for signs of
Seasons changing.
If I could but breathe again
I’d catch the scents
Of the hay’s first cutting,
Sage fires in desert summers,
The clear chill of early frost
And the lively green
Of spring’s new life.
Each dawn: A song sparrow
On my headstone
Trilling lux aeterna
Not for me,
But not minding
If I’d listen,
Sometimes,
For eternity.