It Could Be Your Last Day Poem by Etienne Charilaou

When will it be time to log out of life?
I've seen how others also muse
on their last day of life -
how would you spend it
someone asked others to tell?

Surely, it's best not to know
but to live each day, each moment
fully and well, making good decisions
is part of that art, and I ask you
to take this to heart.

If we're here to learn
and to grow then this I know:
I've learnt much from the crashes,
life's malfunctions, and disasters.
And though I haven't suffered much,
yet I've had a certain share,
I guess it's been what I could bear.

I've learnt too what's important -
I try not to waste my precious time;
anything less I think is a crime.
What's important is what you love.
What's important is who you love.
What's important is their love for you.

Someone said wisely:
‘Where ignorance is bliss;
‘tis folly to be wise.'

But I was eager for knowledge
and now it's too late -
I know too much about horrible fate.

So learn from my mistake;
and seek not to know it all.
Rather be happier than be appalled.

But how'd you live well?
Others have said but I'll say it again:
If in doubt live like a bird.
It's a simple life full of exercise and treats,
flying and song - how could you go wrong?

Look at that bright fellow -
the yellow weaver hopping along.
Now he pauses - no food here -
he hops along some more, then dashes through the air
to a reed, now on the ground again, pecking at a crust.

I shift - he flies away!
It's a typical day.
And I love him even though
he flew away.