There is a heaven

There is a heaven

If only for the sake of poetry

I discount other references as missing

Out salient facts in favour of pretence.

The reward for good behaviour

Carrot and stick will only get a person

So far

Before hitting a glass ceiling

Splintering the dome of heaven

Carpeting the earth with bright light.

Too many innocent strangers

Finding their way between

Sharply-edged shards.

A jigsaw of

Brittle personalities

Tiptoeing through quiet lives

Trying not to spill blood.

Do they do it out of respect

Or do they fear making a nuisance of themselves

A spectacle

Causing a fuss out of nothing.

A little blood-letting

Was a doctor’s only tool

Let him near you with a knife

If you dare

The old fool wouldn’t know a virus

From a yeast infection.

The well-fed priest

With a penchant for single malt

And an unhealthy addiction to pain

Watching healthy people slip away

With a prayer.

Is there really a better place

Waiting to redeem

The tortured soul

Or is the old priest just jealous

Of the glory in youth

Seeing off the competition

Until his becomes

The only voice loud enough to hear.

Are old people ever really wise

Or do they just remember

When to hold their tongue

Perhaps that is its purpose.

Heaven is a story well told

To save the world from sociopathy

When as far as I can see

An afterlife is about as crazy

An idea

As true equality

Social mobility

The nobility of poverty

The wealth of truth in virtue

And the generosity

In a holy spirit

Finding its own

Humble way to heaven.