With sails propelled
by angel breath,
we'll glide outside
of life and death,
bequeath our time
and light to stars,
then leave behind
what once was ours.

Who brings such things
past heaven's gate?
So little will
perpetuate.
Although, consider
what was spent:
possessions,
decorations, rent,

those hours lost
to nervous strife,
the discontent
of spendthrift life,
when all we needed
wasn't much:

some shelter, food,
a loving touch

and dreams to give
the nights delight,

some hope to keep
the mornings bright,

then good to tell
a wrong from right,

with questions lending
fresh insight.

Until that ship
arrives, let's live,

revel, explore,
excite, and give

our hearts a chance
to love and laugh

so "joy" may be
our epitaph.