Heaven

I said my next post would be less heavy-going so here's a poem I wrote. I wrote it ages ago, and now at a time when I am thinking deeply about my beliefs (and doubting quite a few of them) it seems to make more sense than ever. Hope ya like it :)

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Heaven is not a beautiful garden

Beyond a locked gate and a wall

Neither is it a party when we die

Attended by the young and beautiful

It is not a mansion

Gilded with marble, crystal and gold

Where a stray elbow might knock a ming vase

And set alarms ringing

Guards running

It is not, surely, an eternal holiday

A sun lounger by an infinity pool

Cocktails

All inclusive

Canapés, caviar, white sand and blue skies

Or (please don’t let it be) an endless church service

Singing hymns forever

Accompanied by harps, or an organ, or an incredibly on-trend band

What is heaven?

It is the tenderest of moments

The hand that wipes the tear from your cheek

That lifts your chin

Smoothes your hair

It is the freedom to do as you please

To make your own choices

And perhaps choose well

It is a hard day’s work done gladly

And the reward for our labours:

Rough hands, satisfaction and dinner on the table

It is the vast celestial dance

And the beautiful tangled circles of the earth

The bees, grasses, trees

Stones, streams, mountains, sheep

Clouds, storms, oceans, eagles

Seeds, soil and wildflowers

And every tie that connects them

The delicate insect on the windowsill

And the fist that does not crush it

But instead

Opens the window.