“In the long run,”
wrote John Maynard Keynes,
“we are all dead.”
“And nearly all,” adds The Voice,
“nearly every last one,
will soon be forgotten.”

​

“What about my children?” I protest.
“I will live on through them.
Grandkids even.”
“Perhaps for a while,” explained The Voice,
“But in the blink of a historic eye,
they too will be long gone
and forgotten.”

 

Yet I know that one day,
Maybe in a century or two,
Someone will pull an old book
From a library shelf,
Or discover
A poem, a play, a newspaper article.

And an author, a poet, a playwright,
An investigative journalist,
Will come back to life
And speak once more.

​

“In the beginning,”
wrote the disciple John,
“was the word.”
And in the end, we can add,
It’s the words that live on.