Dear Friends,
I am writing this letter from Heaven.
As you might guess, Paradise is crowded.
The math gets tricky, but many billions
of people have died and made their way here.
You’d be surprised at some of the scoundrels
who call this home since everyone gauges
behavior in life by his own standards.
I noticed one thing as soon as I walked
in the pearly gate: huddled just outside,
a crestfallen group of Moslem terrorists
sat by a sign stating “Due to shortage
of virgins we no longer will honor
your coupons!” I hurried past their despair.
As I walked down the streets, just exploring,
I had to jump to the side and skinny
up to a stone wall because a cattle
herd bore down on me in a wild stampede.
Yes, their brands were still on fire and I felt
their hot breath as they ran on by. Sweat-soaked
cowboys galloped along trying to turn
that herd, but in spite of the unpleasant
task they wore smiles. I had entered the range
up in the sky, the objective they’d hoped
would be theirs someday. It was frustrating
to watch, but they seemed destined to ride
forever chasing those fool cows so I
turned away and walked toward the next corner
where another amazing sight appeared.
A desert oasis sits shimmering
like a mirage where camels and goats feed
on green grasses and drink from sweet water.
Figs picked from trees by lithesome Bedouin girls
sit on platters waiting to be carried
to the men sitting in the shade of tents.
The reader begins to doubt my story,
that my pen writes nothing but fantasy.
I ask you to believe, I have seen it.
But this is not my end destination,
and I need to keep exploring, looking
for the piece of Heaven I can call home ………..
* * *
(The foregoing poem in ten-syllable lines will be completed in much longer form, revised and improved for inclusion into my next volume of poems which I hope to publish in March.)
