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John Herlihy

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Cold Heaven
by John Herlihy → (All Poetry by John Herlihy)
Sunday, October 2, 2016    Rated "G" by the Author.
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Cold Heaven
By John Herlihy

If you begin to believe what people say,
You would think heaven as cold as a winter day,
A wintery perfection with no room for a mistake,
Blessings that fall like snow for heaven’s sake,
A crystalline globe exuding the chill of brilliance,
Icicles sparkling in the light with sheer resilience.

Could I continue to exist as a perfect being,
When I know in my heart another way of seeing?
Imperfections within that I cannot fully control.
Will there ever be a time to find purity of soul?
How I wish to absorb what all the religions promise,
Paradisal gardens to fill empty hearts with solace.

I know myself better than to think I belong there;
In my mind, heaven’s hallways lead to an unfamiliar lair.
Offering misty plenitude in a land where I do not belong,
Unending certitude in a mind that is not circular, but oblong.
I can see myself bewildered trying to catch my breath,
Wondering what happened after the event of my death.

The icy splendor of perfection seems distant and flawless;
Garlands of flowers create a sublime bower that is precious.
There is a rare beauty to the place that seems untouchable;
An exquisite maze of hedges whose center seems unreachable.
I feel out of place amid the inner sanctum of such perfection;
The wind blows stone cold, making me long for simple affection.

Someone needs to shake me, pinch me, or just wake me up;
I have another day to live, still on earth a wayward pup.
With no real desire to fall down into Hell’s heated hearth,
I have determined to pursue perfection on life’s given path.
Cold heaven will one day open its arms with its warm embrace,
Welcoming me into the crystalline purity of this exalted place.

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 Reviews of "Cold Heaven"
Reviewed on October 3, 2016
I believe that cold heaven will hold you in its fluffy lap one day.

Love ya!

Jane

Reviewed by Ronald Hull
Reviewed on October 3, 2016
Methinks you think of heaven too much. Based on what I've read of your fabulous travels, you have experienced some of the best the earth has to offer--far more than most. Why would you wish for more?

Like the suicide bombers, guilty people like to think of heaven as a place where they can indulge in any kind of behavior (deflowering multiple virgins?) without consequences. It's the kind of hypocrisy that guilty people carry around waiting to shed it when they die. But religions insist that, If you do as I say, you will be rewarded in heaven. And then they tell you that no man is without sin--hooking you into the quandary.

If heaven is the perfect place you describe, it is sterile. Who would want to live there?

Ron

Reviewed by Michael Schafer
Reviewed on October 3, 2016
Our souls are pure on the day we're born. After that point, life hardens our hearts and souls. Forgiving those who trespass against us will bring that lost purity back. Even though I'm a nonbeliever, this was an excellent write.
Michael D.

Reviewed by Odin odin@aflx.com
Reviewed on October 3, 2016
For anyone questioning the environment of heaven, you've painted a hopeful picture. Perhaps such a place is on your mind more lately than before, but for anyone, regardless of their age, contemplating their demise and its aftermath, there is much to take from this theme of hope. Well done.

Reviewed by George Carroll
Reviewed on October 3, 2016
It is a wonderful poem you have written and as far as heaven is concerned we just have to keep praying to make up for our misdeeds, and then Jesus will welcome us when death overtakes us.
Live each day as if you are already in heaven.

Georgeoxoxoxoxox

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
Reviewed on October 3, 2016
John, best poem, in my opinion, that I have read of yours. Maybe it is the subject matter which is so dear to me. I began to believing, as this poem so aptly states around my fourteenth birthday. Of course I couldn't correlate in my mind what you have given us in the magnificent piece of poetry.

This line grabs me . . .

"I have another day to live, still on earth a wayward pup."


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