Imprint in the Grass

"Who will find me here tomorrow? Perhaps Nobody."

"Imprint in the Grass"

The shimmering moon,
Glimmers through the clouds.
Stars fall into place
I lie on the grass,
Peaceful, alone.
A sudden gust of wind,
Urging me to take His hand.
I smile and accept
Who will find me here tomorrow?
Perhaps nobody.
But all that they would find
Is an imprint in the grass.
And who can bury that?