That Special Day

I’m not expecting a medal, or a crown,
or to be remembered. I don’t deserve anything like that.
Please don’t burn me to ashes, but let me lie in the cool dark earth
sleeping peacefully as I wait for that special day.
The only place I want to go is where I can meet with the man who died for me.
So that I can shake his hand and say thank you for giving his life.
After that, I don’t mind if I sit on the back row, looking on in wonder and with deep satisfaction, as many are welcomed into his extravagant wedding reception.
Even from the outside, I will sing along, from my heart, with whatever celebration songs are led, in whatever style, and whatever language. If I don’t know the words, I’ll try to hum along, with my hand on my heart and a tear in my eye.
And if there is a job I can do, like trimming the edges, or picking up waste, I will do it gladly. And if not, I’ll stay where I’m told to stay and wait for the next job.