It would be nice if time was allotted
to prepare for the end of a world.
If you had time, you’d pack a backpack
With your toughness and durability,
And an assortment of comforting snacks.
You would take time to put on your armor
To strap your empathy and also your suspicion to your belt
Like weapons to keep you safe.
And you might get a lockbox
For your emotionalism, sentimentality, and attachment.
Because you know that such things
Will only be liabilities
during the end.
You won’t be needing them
Among the carnage of what used to be.
But this is never how the world ends.
The world ends on days when you have woken up to sunshine.
When there has been no dark cloud on the horizon
no warning hint of smoke on the air.
The end of the world arrives when you have sauntered through your wide front door
Into a bright new day
your heart on your sleeve
and your spirit perched jauntily on your hat.
And then…All of a sudden
no longer tall
no longer proud
it is loud
And you are left
looking at the remnants
Of what once was