Poems, Personal Stories, and Observations

The Moving Clouds

It doesn’t feel much like heaven now,
Though I get glimpses of it.
Those who nearly die
And have visions of heaven, or hell —
Live transformed by gratitude.

I don’t know why
Some see heaven
And others do not.

Perhaps we have to train
Our hearts and eyes.
Perhaps we need to deliberately
Think
Of seeming coincidences
As real miracles.

We have forgotten our wonder,
Filled with self-importance,
Thinking we are the only creators.
What a heavy burden to bear!

Do you ever stare
At the moving clouds,
And wonder?

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