Heaven

Entire world is a stage And all men and women merely players It is what Shakespeare said in one of his plays At first I did not understand what he meant In other play one of his characters says Life is design by a fool tale told by an idiot The words made sense but total meaning escaped me once again Yet it seemed more realistic as I got older As life turned its back towards me I realized than what Shakespeare meant And I liked it even less than before I understand that nobody whishes to bear this existence alone But he wanted to put me into his dismal reality My English teacher didn’t want to share his pain with me He wanted me to experience misery So I would become evil that extent at the time not comprehendible to me that he was But all life is design by a fool But that begs the question what heaven would be like If it is true heaven than what is there cannot be described Or imagined by anybody Place where life is no longer design by a fool Perfect Many people say this is perfect or that is perfect But truth is we cannot imagine perfection And even if we can imagine infinity beyond our grasp still is perfection Some stories describe a vine on which one climbs to heaven But in reality if one could find vine that long he would simply reach beyond atmosphere Yet there is a place where life is no longer tale told by an idiot And if it’s hard to find outside one can make such a place in once own soul Place that is perfect Place divine Place that cannot be described or imagined But if heaven is purely abstract it begs the question what is beyond abstract