Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.216
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
...If this was Heaven, it made little sense,
would not they get newcomers all the time?
How could this seem so bizarre to their mind?
Wouldn’t this have to have happened to them?
I just sighed loud and shook my head again,
but at that time a red-headed man came,
folks parted for him, and cried out his name,
like he was some hero they looked up to,
I just looked at him, not sure what he’d do,
but I somehow sensed that we were the same.

“When they spoke the words, I didn’t believe,
but here you are, good Lord, it’s been so long,
I’d say eight decades have now come and gone,
since I showed up and they had to receive
an earth-born soul, they just couldn’t conceive…
Took John here fifteen years to understand
that there could be another type of man,
so please, take my hand, and I will explain,
the truth of Heaven that boggles the brain,
but in the end is quite sublime and grand.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of this guy,
he seemed quite different then everyone else,
it was something in his eyes, I could tell.
In the other folks I could see no lies,
but in Philippe saw something I realized,
the hardness of a soul who had seen sin,
who had known evil, and fought it within,
a familiar look, one that I knew well,
I figured I should hear what he might tell,
so I stood and agreed to follow him.

He waved me over to a tavern small,
we paced towards it, the others close behind,
as if just seeing me shattered their minds,
most of them stopping outside the front wall,
nobody followed us inside at all.
Inside I saw a barkeep cleaning things,
not all that strange, except the man had wings,
an angel bartender…okay, why not?
Already Heaven was weirder than I thought,
Philippe cried, “Ras, you up for explaining?”

The angel turned, and his broad face lit up,
“Is that what I think it is?”he inquired.
I was uncertain what might transpire,
until Ras poured some beer, filled up a cup.
Said, “Up here, we only have the good stuff.
Forgive me, I’m rusty, it’s been a bit
Since an earth-born came, and Philippe was it,
most of your kind are scattered ‘round elsewhere,
so many Heaven-born, your sort are rare,
but I can help you make sense of all this.”

CONTINUES IN PART III.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required