What if the earth implodes into a fiery ball of heat and heaviness and
disgust?
Then I’ll have seen enough sunrises and sunsets and blue skies.
And what if the sky turns green and sinks into the sea?
Then the seas will become a lovely shade of turquoise.
And what if the seas dry up, the fishes die, and desert claims the
world?
Then my hourglass will be forever filled with sand.
Well, what if evil really does win in the end?
Then I’ll remind myself that it was never wrong to count on
something better.
And what if there really is no heaven? Imagine.
Then I’ll have lived, not in vain, but with endless hope in my
millions of moments.
But what if sickness one day scrapes at my body and knocks at the
spirit’s door?
Then I’ll thrill for so many days and hours of soundness.
And what if my mind buckles, lays low, in the bowels of
forgetfulness?
Then I’ll be glad for these decades of blunt clarity and memories
sweet.
And what if one day shock and awe again upend my solid foundation
of heritage certainty and
who I am at the cellular level?
Then I’ll try to make room, and leave judgment far behind.
But what if, after all is said and done, as a curtain descends down
my days and over my eyes,
what if I fear or laugh, slump or rise up? What if I babble a strange
concoction of 70’s pop and
early-on praise songs? What if, in utter absence of mind, I swear,
then worship, then petition?
And…
…what if I see four living creatures with wings spread wide, and hear
them calling “holy, holy,
holy” into the farthest heavens, into a crystal-clear eternity, beside a
throne of brilliance?
If all these things, when all these things, I’ll be glad to have
believed.
