I Spake as a Child

When I was a child I was sure

that when I met God I would know

the truth of all things. Death

wasn’t as fearsome, knowing God

would tell me how it all began

and why it had to end, for me

or anyone—probably for world

sharing, as we wouldn’t all fit at once,

though in Heaven somehow we did,

and more, all of us, able to find

each other in the clouds. I hoped

to go to Heaven, of course, not Hell,

and later heaven was a state of mind,

like hell. But I remember how pure

it was, my understanding, my desire

to know, my certainty that God

would tell us when we died, we’d see!

Now I live quietly with science

and sacred mystery. It’s easier to think

of things I don’t wish to know,

like how or when I’ll die, or whether

my father will slip away today under

anesthesia. I’m typing in the dark,

early, before we pick him up to take

him to the unknown. Each line I write

is something else I don’t know

until it happens.

— Babs