As a child, the better of two places
You might go when you die
A place with pearly gates
Where God and Jesus live
A place you imagined
When times were tough
A place giving you hope
For a better tomorrow
A place Grandma talked about often
Praying we may all go there someday
A rendezvous for family and friends
Like some magical tree house in the woods
And now, a frame of mind
Not a place anymore
But a way of being in any moment
Allowing life to pass through us
Nothing special
Or different than anything else
No need to be anything or anyone anymore
Just being for the sake of being
Like art, beauty for its own sake
Like beauty, in the eyes of the beholder
Like creation, unstoppable
Like now, Heaven
Hey! A poem! A nice one, too.