Glimpse of Heaven

GLIMPSE OF HEAVEN She once said, “Heaven is in my eyes,” And to me it was a mystery what she meant Until one dreary city day spent As heavy rain poured from the skies And then the shining sun splendid and high – Welcome surprisein the drabness around – Made every thing except the puddles dry – Wet mirrors – tiny shiny on the ground. Each an empty hole in a shabby shroud, A world worn through, where beauty had room, As a patch of blue is seen through cloud And you see beyond the gloom. Glimpses of the river’s sallows, Leaves and branches trailing down, Every twig all dressed in yellow – Autumn’s coming to the town. Fragments of golden church dome over Pieces of coloured glass window. Moving cirrus patchwork cover For the soaring, arching rainbow. Like misplaced jigsaw pieces, They didn’t belong - any more Than fragments of crockery dishes Fallen to the grey kitchen floor. Each coloured patch in a world of cement Was a fragment of perfection from on high – A perfect glimpse of heaven – like her eyes …. To me, that’s what she meant.