A Conversation

I heard a knock upon the door.

“A knock so late at night?”

I felt a strong presentiment

That something wasn’t right.

 

Toward the door I inched my way

And stood with bated breath.

I opened it, and there I stood--

Face to face with Death.

 

He said, “Don’t let me bother you.

It isn’t TOO late, is it?

I was in the neighborhood

And thought I’d pay a visit.”

 

“Death, be gone! I am not ready

For eternal sleep.”

And quoting Frost, I told him I had

“Promises to keep.”

 

“Once you’re gone, that won’t matter,”

He said. “And furthermore,

The only thing that matters is

What’s happened heretofore.” 

 

“That’s not true,” I told him. “There is

Always much to do.

Karmic causes and effects

Bring constant revenue.

 

“By revenue I do not mean

Individual worth;

I mean how our actions help

To benefit dear Earth.”

 

“Poor thing,” said Death. “Everything

Must pass. Don’t you see?

All that you have done dissolves

Once you come with me.”

 

“Oh, you are so wrong,” I countered.

“Every worthy action

Has a positive effect--

If only just a fraction--

 

“And those effects live on and on.

And, no, they do not die.

There’s more to accomplish here,

So, therefore, pass me by.”

 

And so Death turned to walk away

And gave me a reprieve.

I guess he wasn’t so dead set

On forcing me to leave.

 

Maybe he’ll find someone ready

To go, with spirits beaming.

Or else he’ll try to drag away

Someone kicking and screaming.

-by Bob B (8-8-22)