who does not love kindness, mercy, gentleness

and a touch of excitement? me, me, the spectators

lifted hands and they looked like shoots climbing towards

the sun eager to taste more light, heat, warmth

within: eye shadows, make up, silk and jewellry

worn heavily the delighted throw a coin, a gold piece,

even spittle can do wonders when it comes from a title,

nobility, sacred?

more voices rushes in to the canvas, the paint becomes

quite colorful when words are swept away, embedded, narration

framed elegantly to cast a gold man immortal,

hear hear! the crowd is now entranced when the puzzle appears solved

of what is to be desired, of mercy, kindness, love and charity

being bestowed so heavily!

heaven must be worn, said the gold immortal who has no name:

for this is neither complex nor simple,

shoots bearing leaves, flowers of many variety, stretching

towards the sun – – – wanting a slice of heaven

and i saw many teary eyed wilting, shrunken men and women

alike they looked like weeds or kids for the sun

never managed to give when the canopy above took all,

unyielding, harsh, stern and cold: they all wanted more

heaven on earth, who wouldn’t … … then the trees of old,

the roots that dug deep below began to rant of a conspiracy,

that heaven was inside, not worn, to be given when

shrunken, wilted, men and women looking worn out

could barely limp, limp they did towards less of what was above,

too far away they said when kindness, charity, mercy

became a part of life as they sewed those threads within,

tall upright knights charged into caves, bearing light

from within, casting off armor, shields and swords

for their fight was the inner plane and what use was there

of worn out materials useless to the heart?

aye, aye said the idiot watching this crazy scene when

swords, shields and armor were highly prized,

scoped them up and melted them down

then made of molten liquid an idol he worshipped,

for it became a creed, a motto, a meaning to itself

that heaven on earth was grasped within the soul of

what he formed. it is me, he said, me praying to me

and ego loomed large, large enough to block out the sun,

shadows flitted in corridors, caves while gold immortals

raised their sceptre to ward off charging knight gone

mad in their eyes, ears hearing blasphemy and confusion:

aye, aye they chorused in unison – – – take not what is worn

for heaven within as you say is all you need!

then the knights and wilted men and women they

fell onto the ground, sank into sink holes appearing

yawning lazily as it swallowed all the chaos masquerading

as belief, ideology and more.

in earth’s core, liquefied and blending together

with tapestries that once held life from above,

the many eyes did open, ears did hear

when heaven called from within and beyond:

can you reach?

can you touch?

can you be?

nay, nay, the molten lava spills forth into green earth,

obsidian forms to become immortal gods

each bearing forth their ever watchful truth

of what only the dead do comprehend,

for kindness, charity, mercy, justice and love

could be manufactured, could be manifested, could be witnessed,

could never be immortal

if it was never there in the first place.