On Heaven
What is Heaven like? Heaven is like, after a growing struggle against the confines of space-time, After the dark kicking and wrestling with the membrane of everything finite, Like bursting, after a threshold of pain, out Into the free light The more the soul stretches, develops in sensitivity The less it all fits All held in by inabilities inhibitions incomprehensions The imperfection of three dimensions... Until the heart Flows over into a song That longs to be born again Heaven is not Seeing, in slivers but everything all at once the inside and outside And the hairs in the back of our heads and the front It is like Tracing the lines, slowly Of your old home And everything all of sudden is known Faced, felt, held, in a word Contemplated It is like tasting, but more than tasting It fills All the way up, and more than enough It spills Over and outward, and...