I was sent there, alone, confused,
I wondered what to expect from that place.
Scared and skeptic, I halted an old man,
And laid some questions before him…
“I’ve heard they call this town ‘heaven,’
And so I ask, tell me, oh don’t return me,
How many doors would welcome me in?
And which windows are open to the world?
“Tell me, oh tell me about these bricks,
That are paved to make the pathways.
How many of them are whole yet?
And which ones have cracks to fill?
“I see serene brooks in the hills up there.
Tell me, oh tell me, do they carry fresh life?
Or are they tainted as those where I’m from,
Carrying nothing but nameless saline tears?
“And tell me about the millions that dwell here,
But tell me once you’ve thought about it.
How many have something special about ’em?
And which ones are withering away alone?”
To be Continued. . .