For me, a babbling brook.

Pardon me, please, if occasionally I crave for more than a pulse beat. I'm alive. Because my heart keeps ticking. But when my heart stops, I still want to live. In another form. That requires no pulse beat. Instead, life should continue. In a steady flow. Like a mighty river. Or a mountain stream.  Or for me, a babbling brook. Flowing. Flowing. Flowing forever. Life without end. Into a pleasant conscious eternity. --Jim Broede