“Heaven”

I think we some times forget Heaven…

Our hands work for the petty of what is bound to
Turn to withered grass and dross.
Our feet walk away from the narrow and choose
The ‘other road’ spelled out by Frost.

Forgetting Heaven is but human…

A yoke we tend to toss aside and extricate from
Our soft and unlearned shoulders.
A rest we believe far too far from our grasp
Ending at our child-like fingers.

Yet, it is always Heaven soul beckons.

The universe dimmed by adversaries that cry
Opulently to our un-mastered ears.

And it is heaven that never stutters or shutters
But rescues the child that seeks to hear.