Letting It Ride (Poetry)

This is death beginning, probably
there could be other explanations
but this one fits —
at least in places, if not perfectly.

And if this is death, it’s a relief
for nothing now is worth the time or struggle
and we can let the tide go in and out
without regret and be like scattered pebbles

rolling down towards an open sea
feel no pain — just curiosity
at how the world might end
when we’re no longer watching constantly.

There’s little point in worrying
which hour will be the final one
or if we’ll get to finish
what we lately have begun.

It’s gradual and oddly comforting
knowing that life slips away
without any choice — no responsibility
no single one of us has any say.

Whoever planned it left all purpose out —
while some go looking others let it ride —
if there are any answers they’re well-hidden
(the same old theories stretch their quaint religion)
while echoes of faint laughter filter through
from somewhere, maybe on the other side.