by Ben Crawford
I don’t know when I first knew death was out for me.
In church, I gave myself the “I” test.
– Who am I? When am I? What am I? –
I was in church after all.
I thought, I’ll go see him.
I’ll get baptized.
I’ll wait my life out. Then I’ll ask.
I’m waiting, so I pondered death, and how to make it fair to Heaven.
No suicide – that’s out.
Be neighborly. Neighbors made that stressful.
I found heaven and God unassured.
I asked, what next? What will hunting death bring me?
I was no longer guaranteed my family or soul.
I dropped both.
I implore god no longer. He’s there waiting with anticipated glee.
I think of death in the meantime.
For life is trivial, as at its ending, I will have had no answers, no sureties, from the Almighty.
I strive in aimless pursuit of the question that only arrives at death.
I boringly wait for that onrushing answer.
The Death God answers.