All Things Bright and Possible
When death comes
like the end of love
and holds me to his dreaded promise.
When death comes like a landmine
and all the flowers of spring cannot deter him.
When death comes I want to look up
to him in child-like awe.
I want to step through the door,
as if into an experiment;
just as I've looked on everything.
Therefore, I consider eternity
as an abstraction,
from the tiniest atom,
to each cycle of seed and blossom,
all beings created
are of precious value
I search for conclusions.
In this trudge to the ‘inevitable,’
I measure every step.
When my life has reached
its final ebb, let the path
where I have passed
be strewn with expectation—
daisy fresh and full—
of all things
bright and possible.
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