Mirrors in Heaven

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing ~ Paul

I hope this new poem helps encourage you today!
JWU

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MIRRORS in HEAVEN

There are no mirrors 
in heaven.
It’s singing faces
Look on changeless joy
perpetual glory
unaffected by Oz
and its shy chimera
that tries to capture what once was
But never is again.

There are no windows
in a crystal balloon.
Where the panorama opens
above and beyond
under and around
growing and changing
with the slow growth
of herb, field, and forest
for lingering.

There are no mirrors in heaven,
and never a need to look back
nor the compulsion 
to know more
Then what is.
As each moment unfolds
and surprises the senses
awakening pure appreciation
in tantalized tingling.

There is no fog to clear
dust to wipe
detail to inspect
for every bit of earth
has congealed into beauty
blooming avera in full verdure
and the festering wastes
of the broken world
have been redeemed.

There are no mirrors in heaven
for in creation
We see ourselves:
in a thunderstorm,
a falling leaf,
or the orange glow of sunrise,
It's unstoppable penumbra
of tone and hue
backlighting silhouettes of promise.

The ocean reflects us.
Throbbing in the rhythms of re-creation.
The hidden wind carries us
where, or when it willeth
into far countryside.
Over knob and knoll,
amid periwinkle petals
and carefree heather
And raindrops on the lawn.

There are no reflections 
of wish or wannabe,
no cries not good enough,
or sad serenade,
only glimpses through to providence
over bridges spanning doubt
and careworn cacophony,
to soothe and slave
The withered.

Begin the overture of
an unwritten symphony;
an ever-changing music
That melts the clamor
With exploding silence.
Each cackle of hen or heron
Every purr or coo 
of cat or kangaroo.

There are no mirrors in heaven
for there is no need to forget,
the brutal ugliness of domineering malice.
For greed dissolves from love to love in love
in the joy of each moment is needless,
because there is always more,
and the One who is the reflection
of everything we ever wanted to be
is ample reason to look.

The slow growth
of a thousand-billion years passes in a blink
and the songs of hoopoe and harp play 
sweetly drifting
through the canopy
trickling
through leaf and verge
finding rest
in the heart of the Timeless.

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