Faith: Believing that what is beyond one is also above one; that one, however, is of that; that one’s inward eyes are ever smiling with pleased awe at the touch of sun one moves in and is; that no life is done, ever, no work; even the stillborn, clever, odd, the suicides, live on, cannot sever themselves from the whole, the glittering run. O plant a tree in memory of me, make of my body a sparse ring of ashes to benefit the ground around that tree, make of my bones and flesh a memory in the grassy earth where the chipmunk dashes, in the trunk, limbs, branches, twigs, slick green slashes!