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.

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