Do It Again?

Toward the end of your days, you are given the classic test whether you were satisfied with your life.  You are given the option to live your life all over again — the whole thing up to the present moment.  But the caveat is that you cannot change a single thing.  Everything will happened just as it did the first time around.  Would you choose to do it again or would you choose not to?

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Death and the Afterlife

Is there an afterlife?  Religious people always think so, and how you are treated in the afterlife is based on how well you behaved while alive, so for them there is even a kind of morality involved in death — good people are rewarded, while bad people pay a dear price — for an eternity no less.  Fine.

I know we can’t peek beyond the grave, but let’s just think about what is undeniable about death.  For one thing, you won’t have the 5 senses you have now to interface with whatever the reality is after death.  You won’t be able to see anything because you won’t have eyes; you won’t be able to smell anything because you won’t have a nose — in fact, all 5 senses are not going to be available to you.  Another thing that is certainly missing is the brain.  You won’t be able to think any thoughts because you won’t have a brain anymore to think them.

So exactly how is such an afterlife existence supposed to work with the 5 senses and your brain missing?  Just try to imagine that — that’s not so simple.  When I do, I come up with zero, that is, I can’t imagine any kind of existence without the 5 senses or a brain.  You might say something like it’s like you are lying in bed in the middle of the night, and you close your eyes and see pitch blackness.  But that isn’t believable either because without eyes, you wouldn’t see blackness — you wouldn’t see, period.

Frankly, an afterlife is ridiculous from the get go because it is simply not practical.  And that you would be rewarded or punished in the afterlife based on your behavior while alive — please!

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They Wave Their Goodbyes

Your hand is beyond all touch.
Your eyes, they will never dance again.
Oh, my soul, it does not recover,
Your soul I no longer discover.

The trees, they wave their goodbyes to the passing storm,
They wave their goodbyes to the receding dawn.
But I…I say my goodbyes to the thorns,
To the thorns, as I mourn.

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

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First Leaves Fall in June

First leaves fall in June
From a sea of green in bloom.

First souls depart too soon.
Depart in the morning of their day.
Never a chance to play.

How many heights they will never scale.
How many passions never set sail.
How many sorrows never travail.

First leaves fall in June
From a sea of green in bloom.
First souls depart so soon!

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

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Welcome Mr. Death

Now the leaves, relentless, fast decay,
And memory grows dimmer day by day.
Old age seeps into joints and sinews furtively.
Shedding white hair grows tousled unbecomingly.

All your dreams long since past…
Purpose seems a bloated outcast.
Hope and aspirations retarded;
Fleeting time, spent, never recovered.

The young fear Mr. Death —
Not to be cheated of their experience,
But the old have had their time,
So, for them, he may be kind.

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

My Story

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