Monday, June 6, 2016


                   What if, indeed, my consciousness persists,
                   And I’m possessed of an immortal mind,
                   A thought the die-hard rationalist resists,
                   But what credentialed psychics have divined?
                   Convinced of this, I think my life would change:
                   I would not be a victim of despair,
                    And much of what I do I’d rearrange
                   No longer frightened of some demon’s snare.
                   And yet, the power of a deadline to
                   Focus the mind and keep one on the ball
                   Incentivizes much of what I do—
                   Without such urgent prompting, I might stall.
                        Without the scythe’s sound swishing at my back,
                        My mind’s creative tension would go slack.