NEXT LIFE

If there's a next life, I sometimes think

I won't be a poet.

No regrets being one. I simply am,

and must fulfill my fate.

If I could choose a future life, I'd rather

not think so much

but serve others honestly, with acts,

not words: a streetcorner cobbler, a waiter,

a porter opening hotel doors, carrying luggage.

I'd be more dutiful to my parents,

more loving to my wife and daughter, more caring of friends.

I'd walk more roads, climb more mountains, raise more dogs,

try the restaurants on every street.

I won't smoke or drink coffee. I'll go to bed early and rise at dawn.

If I've less money, I'll wear one coat.

If more money, I'll give everything to the poor

and be poor again, all in the same coat.

How happy to keep

my own soul and wisdom

but not have to think or write. I'll no longer sing of the sun,

just enjoy it. Instead of praising, I'll become

the people I praise.