My Mother's Heaven
They say Heaven shines like the sun;
I think it glows like the moon--
a splash of golden mist,
a galaxy of fireflies and fairy dust.
It breathes a luminescence
to feed our hungry eyes
enough to keep us sated.
There is no need for gluttony.
It fills our thirsty souls
with an endless well of inspiration.
There is no void in Heaven.
Black holes are invitations.
Stars are skipping stones.
And the vacuum swallows sound
only for those who let it.
For the rest, it is a calling,
a song in search of voices,
a dance on Saturn’s rings.
They say Heaven is our home.
I think it takes us there.
If this life is a journey,
why should the afterlife be a destination?
Let your tired bones rest in peaceful slumber
while you skip among the stars
singing songs and seeding dreams
with a universe of possibility.
* * *
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There are other sonnets…and there is How do I Love Thee?
There are other poems…and there is Heaven by Debra Kraft.
Peace, love, joy and hope of the Lord be with you!
John Michael Domino
Ron
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