The Heaven You Deny

I will ask no forgiveness, of the lot, nor apologize...the truth I tell. Your slight, therefore, is childish, and elementary. For God alone, is in this house...the father of us all. Run then, children...run, rude and angry, down the streets of life...throwing off the robe, of respect, to the mighty...as if, you knew anything...at all.

It is distress, that you perform, while in this world, are beauty's beyond breath, and yet...you choose, the lesser of the two, to make some point, of error...solely, yours, while in yourself, you tell your futile 'eye'...what every selfish thing you've done is worth, thou simple fools. You crush the flowers, in the field...to have your way!

The world will mend. Its tears, were shed, will wash away the ugliness you've made, nor will remember any arrogance, you played, upon the stage...while camera's clicked away, for there are better things, than memory's of pain...to take one's time, and better things, that leave the earth rebuilt...that you chose not, to have a part!

Now, we have a start, and, I believe, a start, indeed...to heal this world, as heaven waits, and all her ships and angels, just beyond her gate...stand down, that children of the light, might have their time...preparing to depart. Then, on that day, when due is done, and time hath stopped...the ships will pull away, to take those children home, to the heaven you deny!


Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: small Magellanic cloud, google pic