Pop's Poetry

Considering, but not knowing
what may come after this life, 
I find it vainly and vapidly fruitless
to hunger for perfect pie in the sky
and oddly calming to think of 
pushing back from the table 
when my life's holy purpose 
is sanely and sapidly consumed.
There is peace in believing:
life is the bountiful feast 
and death, just a gratuity.

Pops 2015