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On Death  

by John T.Haupt 

(Inspired by my new FB friend Lewis Turco) 


While we wend us on our way to die,
 With this dying it seems our souls must vie.
 While we wake, we wonder when it will be--
 Our passing from our temporal to our eternity.

This wonderment the while doth give us pause
 To consider physics and its laws.
 As years amass on Spirit we reflect,
 And on God we trend to tender more respect.

What self-awareness can we hope to have?
 Oblivion is but a bitter salve.
 To know, be sapient--to lose this we’ll bewail,
 So we wish for something out beyond the pale.

Of all the eons past, and all ahead,
 The time we live pales to that we’re dead.
 At end of life, our hope must be revived
 That body fled, our spirits are kept alive.

Why death itself exists must give us pause,
 There must in it be some wise because,
 Ours is not to know, while life is short,
 Why our lives are destined to abort.

Nor know we what awaits us there beyond
 Our final breath, what spirit leaps the bonds
 That tied us to our corpses we have shed.
 Oh woe! It is our destiny to be dead!

It does us ill to worry and to mope,
 So let us shed our doubt and don our hope.

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