What Then Now, If I Die? Poem by David Olusanya

What then now, if I die?
Cheerfully taking the tomb to lie.
Do not feel in your heart too sorry,
or saddle your spirit with worry.

Do not think in your human minds,
that my stay is as a fallen leaf;
For your fleshes are good as blinds,
to know that life at best is brief.

When you lay me in the ground,
I'll yet linger and leap around;
For I'm of an esteem so high,
that heaven resides not in the sky.

Heaven is the stranger at your door;
Stricken with sickness and arrantly poor.
Paradise is the sweet smile on his face,
when you have him fed at your place.

Hell is the sore heart of your foe,
that you treat as if betrothed to woe.
And your judge is your hands,
to tell of where you fit of either lands.



So when I chose to be a ghost,
do not grief, rather make a toast.
For in my hands, heaves my fate,
to be of worth or mere waste.



David O. Olusanya