AS IF

   This could, of course, be my last day on Earth
   Or anywhere, for all I surely know,
   A thought that makes me ponder on the worth
   Of what I’ve done and where I’ve yet to go,

   And whether if, indeed, there’s more to come
   Beyond the veil of death—another round,
   Another realm—a mystery I can’t plumb,
   About which many theories abound.

   Why not choose one and live pragmythically,
   As if what I most hope for is the case,
   Simply supposing what appeals to me
   Is that which generates the greatest grace?

        I thus declare that in the great Beyond
        We shall transcend what here we call Despond.

*