Written in the existence of soul,
I find myself captured by the infinite:
the promise that eternity has no after
or afterlife. There is life, but no hereafter.
Life continues. It changes form but that
is not ceasing. It is nowlife.
So why would I be afraid?
Recently I heard the words I knew
I’d needed: everything you know
and everyone you know
will
eventually
die.
And this could be my last day,
or I could have a dozen more or
perhaps a hundred or a thousand
and I find that comforting.
So when I wake up, that
is what I tell myself:
Today, I might die.
Everything I know
and everyone I know
will eventually die.
I’m going to take those breaths
where I really appreciate life,
I’m going to feel the pain or grief
of moments when they come,
and I am going to go gently
into that good night, because I know
that I have loved fiercely, and lived
and had hopes and dreams,
and they don’t need to be completed
in order to be good.