Burning to no

You've chosen cremation, phoned home,
even faxed your broker,
cc'd those who care and some
who don't. This choice embodies
Pascal's Gamble the sequel,
calculated risk, final effort
to outflank the grim reaper.
Your decision -- burn here on Earth,
make hell redundant --
is a chance worth taking,
eclipses coffin wait,
takes the breath away.
But it's no bed of coals out there --
red, or white -- no wannabe pyre,
no box seat under night sky.
Of all people, who'd believe
you'd have fierce faith, vision to choose,
certainty the sun will burn out too?

Timothy Pilgrim