Dazzling.

Every now and then,
Poet, my remains,
Carry me further than my ashes can;
Blowing with the wind
Over white and silver peaks,
Dazzling troubles deep,
Sparkling and swimming downstream
Over rocky edges, nice
Zero shades of vice
Performing my last rites.
No, this is not the end;
Across the next bend
Every single crack would mend;
I would be whole again.