The bench an a park has a dedication, Installed in memory of a loved relation. Honoring departed ones are an age old tradition, Motivation can vary-a connection, a perpetuation. Relations do not end with passing of a person, Sometimes, it can even stir deep latent emotion, Propelling new work and action, To carry on a loved one's legacy- a passion. Love transcends our time on earth, Is death just a change of home and hearth? Anything that gives those living a solace- a berth, Is worthwhile in its inception without dearth. This pouring of love can also become a mission. Death does not have to be a conclusion, It can be be a succession, Of deeds, values and learnings in continuation. Makes me wonder-what do I want my legacy to be? After its fall, does it matter how tall or short was a tree? Why should anything matter when one cannot sense or see? Is a structure, a memorial or a cause, for me? Not a memorial, but, let love and laughter be my legacy, After I pass-may you remember me with glee, Not as a serious and sanguine person, But someone who's could bring a smile to your face without reason.