I am older now than those who were sure
I’d change my mind when I grew old.
Now a foot in the grave [not especially brave]
those fairytale afterlives still leave me cold!
Not a model of poise – I do make joyful noise
daily…. as night shrinks in power.
One day sun will die and, of course, so will I
so I do try to celebrate each sunlit hour
My heart truly leaps up…delight fills my teacup –
life and the cosmos fill me with awe.
I need no deities [except maybe birch trees]
the empirical strikes me as having no flaw
Let them grovel and pray [they were brought up that way]
dreaming of Paradise – a sop for the proles.
Parents pass on the lie [pitchforks terrify]
obey mom or your soul might get roasted on coals!
Only a sap would believe in such crap –
but they see no way clear to dispell long-held fear
since mom was the one who passed the lies on
and she is the person we each hold most dear
hints of Wordsworth and The Book of Psalms. Should I have added more? I would rather leave you to do the summing up.