Get into Heaven Free

    There's a river. A big river. An infinite stream of living exhale. Unbound by thought. There's an emptiness in the direction that calms the lethargic heart. An absence of worry. Lukewarm, not of this world. You arrive on horseback. They made you shave your head on the way. You can't take anything with you. Not your nana's picture frame of her father. Not your shame. Not your favorite drinking glass; the one with the slender rim. There's no cheating the game or bending the rules. Rules are no good to the water when the water is the law. You'd be ruining your own dessert. You always liked reading the last page of the book first. 

    Empty-handed and bare-necked, you come to the edge of the bank. Imagine the feeling of a slow fall inward. Oncoming weightlessness. Being rocked into a dream as an infant. The face of every person you have ever loved shining in your eyes. Reaching for your arms and finding seafoam instead. A sadness in this experience creates a need to hold yourself. Grab all that you can. The nothingness comes. 

    The river takes you down, the day is new. You do not wonder what comes next because something in you knows. Down the river, kissed by every drop. Gazing directly above you, you see a lightshow of stars and a milky rain falling down. You were beautiful on Earth because you were kind. Remembering all the moments of deep recognition that love is so real that it is mortifying when you can't find it. Shouldn't it always be found left lingering on pillows from the night before? Or on the check at the restaurant? On the eyelids of resting children? In a well-loved fireplace? 

    Do you wish you could journey backwards? Do you think you'd be still this time? We look our end in the face everyday but it hardly changes us. You see misery go unchanged. Hopelessness tended to, pet like a lap dog, even. All of your life, all your embraces, every filthy thought, every smile to a stranger going by. 

    Now there's only you and the river. You, the river. It was all very touching. You might even do it again.