I found myself leaning against the gates of heaven
As if they were no more than the local pub doors
If I push them open, would I find a pint waiting?
I doubt it. Then again, God has been known
To surprise and devastate. With the speed of lightning
Taking my soul. She was the summer rain
I prayed that dry weather should never come
That my arms would hold her for eternity
Now I care not if storms rage for ever.
The air shimmered with star dust; the gates opened
As I fell, I heard her whisper
You’re home at last…