Poetry Sunday
Why indeed are we afraid of death?
Are we afraid we will turn into ghosts?
Or worried whether we will make it to heaven
Are we afraid of burning in the pits of hell?
Or concerned that we will end up somewhere worse
Is it rebirth that we worry about?
Do we care who or what we are going to be born as?
Will our dark deeds catch up with us?
Is it the principles of karma that torment us?
Or is our fear nothing to do with death itself
But what happens between now and death?
Do we worry that death may not be sudden?
One moment we are talking, and the next we drop dead?
Are we nervous about a near-fatal accident that leaves us dependent
Unable to do our regular tasks, and yet far away from dead
Is our concern about becoming a living, breathing vegetable
At the mercy of unknown caregivers?
Are we afraid that death, when it comes
Is painfully slow and agonizing?
And that we will feel the brutal pain
As death takes its time and lets our life drain
What if we knew that death when it comes
Will be swift and sudden
That we won’t feel a thing
That is will be quick and painless
One minute we are doing something we love
The next minute finds us in a different realm
Would we live our lives differently?
Would we live life on the edge?
Would our life choices be different?
Would we be freer in our thoughts and deeds?
Does the fear of death
Prevent us from fully living our lives?
Will removing this fear help us
Experience life as it is truly meant to be?
