Where am I and how far is it to heaven?

I’m ready to go; I had fastened the Belt

Too long ago!

So letting it go –– and crossing the brink ––

Bonnets may blow –– in the wind!

For I dwell not anymore –– upon Graven Ink

Old –– we grow with Desires that float to sink ––

Eventually though.

But – dare I steal the quill feather ––

of your white-hot hat, ma’am?

So the ink could flow –– to heal the kink.

Where am I and how far is it to heaven?

How odd it sounds!

Like those violet rifts ––

Within the grey clouds in cerulean sky

Exceptions!

Goodbye to the life I used to live

Kiss the Flowers and the Hills for me ––

Bid the Rainbows goodbye!

And look upon the times just once

When I tended the daisies for you ––

‘Twas the smallest hour of all

That felt longer than a century ––

Stepped onto the falls together

And brushed the summers by.

I will send You – this Gem from my ring ––

How dim it sounds –– like the murmur of the Bee –– on a rainy day –

Rustle of the fencing –– in the longest night

I’m ready to go to the town –

Strewn with the Down

Where autumn leaves glow as ruby across the walkways

And there! The poetess of my dreams!

Such a small room she keeps.

Almost contented people. Bliss, Oh Lord!

Where am I and how far is it to heaven?

How fair it sounds!

When I lie down and hear the murmur of Nature ––

And sleep ––

On the heavenly grounds.

- B. Etch.