At seventy-five, the call is palpable
No bell, chant it’s not even a whisper
But it’s there, nagging, insistent
A feeling that events, are going to happen.
When it started, is a mystery
Certainly not in my childhood
Not that long ago, perhaps a few years
Nevertheless, I can’t ignore it.
I’m going to die, Yes I’ve known that since I was young
But it now seems to be almost tangible
It’s a bit scary, just knowing it’ll be soon
I’ll be leaving this life, for perhaps somewhere?
Where? Is a daunting thought
I don’t really know what to think
I’ve heard about reincarnation and such
But another life, birth, new being experiences.
Or perhaps, I worry for nothing
Just a swift off switch, and blank
Nothing, no information
No brain stem activities.
Well I’ll soon find out
This life was interesting
Family and good friends memorable
I had so much, in this life that was pleasurable.
Having thought all this, it may be years
Before the reaper calls my name
I hope it is quick, I don’t want to linger
If I go fast, I’ll think I’m a winner.