Wrong Heavens

Whenever I pass on from here

I will take that proverbial journey with glee
I will climb the highest mountain

Way on up through rainbow-rimmed clouds

And gorgeous singing white-robed ladies

Past the Great Immortal Shepherd with his ancient noble staff

And past the gleaming, crowned Queen of Heaven

I will crawl into the giant lap of bearded Grandpa God

And then I’ll cuddle up close as I ask him,

“So, this is Heaven, huh?”

And imagine my surprise as He’ll smile and say, “No

my precious idolatrous wretch

You’ve come to the wrong place”

And he will introduce himself as Zeus

And then acquaint me with his favorite son Apollo

His regal queen Hera, and the Muses

Give the nickel tour of Mount Olympus

And then ask me if I want to stay.

I will say no, and thank him for his welcome

Explain that there is someone who I rather need to meet

And he, moody as his reputation claims,

Will rashly cast me out of his domain

And as I fall, I’ll flit past all my favorite images

And shed them all

And somewhere or eventually

Beyond the dreams of Dante

And past Milton’s greatest fantasies

when even Merton’s nothingness has too much form to it

I will…

‘arrive’ is not the right word.

I have always been here.