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Poem

If death ends all we see
in Nature’s laws—
to be, or not to be,
with no applause—
and seas of troubles flee
when life withdraws,

then how we choose to plumb
the waters deep…
or whether dreams may come
in final sleep
need never foil
our glee of fancy free…
though mortal coil
may give us pause…

But what if there be more
than what we know—
a door beyond the door
to  come and go?

What further living dream
may round us form,
in endless norm,
that carelessly we cause,
and doth existing seem,
must give us pause…

an independent and 
dependent clause
of consequential strand
must give us pause…

another cosmic clime
in timeless time,
a stream of conscious I’m
in reasoned rhyme
that carries all our flaws
must give us pause…

who’ll snatch us from the jaws
of slated fate—
that we create…
then vainly grasp at straws—

must give us pause…

For should we risk perchance
to miss the mark,
but dizzily to dance…

what dream of dark
in coverlet of gauze
may whelm our dying pause,
and pierce with karmic claws…

to make us heed
in thought, in word, in deed,

indeed,

must give us pause…
must give us pause…
must give us pause…




~ Harley White

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