What if heaven
Wasn’t like heaven at all?
No streets of gold
No cotton clouds to lay upon
No endless blue skies at your feet
Yes, what if it
Was like none of this?
What if it was more like
Some old town where spirits wander about
Like the rain swept streets of St. Augustine
Where shadows dance in early nightfall
From the soft sea breeze swaying slip-chain streetlights
Back and forth
Back and forth
And
Instead of tourist looking for ghost
On this spot or that
Ghost look for the best spots to communicate
With the undead
With the card readers
The mediums
With loved ones left behind
Trying to pick up the pieces
Before drowning in a cold lake of tears
A sea of sorrow
Yes, what if
Heaven was more like the backstreets and alleyways
Of that old city?
Where old friends wander about
No need to eat
No sickness
No fear
No money needed
No agendas by others
Just friends and family wandering about
