Of Grace and Granite

"Here lies the one whose name was writ in water."
Keat's epitaph suggests a mystic thought:
'The cosmic cusp upon whose edge we totter
collapses, then we're stricken from life's plot'.

I wonder if he saw an old quill pen
with water ink, inscribe his name, which dried
transparently, then he was gone. All men
should ponder how they'll cross their fate's Divide.

Another way to think on this would be
to see a finger poised above a pond.
When dipped, it writes his name, then waters re-
converge and men blend with the Great Beyond.

To pass from life into Death's cryptic mists
is both a tease, as well, a holy terror.
Some wonder if an afterlife exists,
while others writhe, repenting every error.

Though eloquently said, Keats didn't know
(as no man does), if Hell or Heaven wait
to rip or raise us. Past all joy and woe,
we sign our soul's new covenant with fate.