You ask / Poem by Linda B. Scanlan

You ask 

Where do we go when we die
what do we become
when we are no longer dimensional
but sparkly things
when our body finally dies
as an ancient temple in the throes of decay
relunctantly giving up the last stone
becomes dust
and to dust it shall return….

A storm of magical particles swirling
and spinning in solar winds
being captivatingly charming tango-ing
on the tip of the moon
being thrown into orbit by comets
and meteors who mistake it as their own…..

No!

We are not the elements of rocks
and boulders
we are the stuff born of moonbeams
and starlight
crushed atoms of gold
photons from light years
of galactic rainbows
prisms of diaphanous radiant glow
nothing less than the spirit
of the Source of all things….

Held aloft by minions of angels
begging for the assignment
know this
only the nicest will be chosen
because
we are heaven’s best
the Word of God once spoken….

When we are called
our name heard
time to come home now
it’s getting late
so go back home we shall
to be greeted like a prodigal
by the heavenly Host par excellence
a banquet thrower of the highest magnitude
only the best for this first supper
at table of plenty…..

Laden with Irish Iinen so soft
it feels like gossamer
China so translucent you swear you can see
eternity through it
sterling knives and forks forged
by the
master silversmith
in fires of mystical origins….

The offering is an all-you-can-eat
dinner buffet
and a show
Aurora Borealis – featured tonight
and you – yes you –
get a seat in the front row…..

What is featured for play time
you want to know
why –
we get to skip around the Milky Way
hop scotch from crater to crater
on any one the trillions of moons
then Brahms plays his lullaby
at the end of the day
as we gently fall asleep
cradled protectively
in the arms of God for eternity……

 

©Linda B. Scanlan, 2018

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