QUEUING IN HEAVEN
Can we choose where we sit At the eternal church lunch In that great house of heaven? Do we have to share a room? Could it be … dormitories! What music will there be? What if it’s country With a worship leader. Shall we wear fixed smiles Through eternal centuries Playing games to pass the time? What happens if you are A private person? Will there be queues To meet our heroes While others stand in lonely corners Whistling a quiet tune Looking at their shoes? Shall I sit on the dunce’s chair As befits my dotted line of faith While passers-by With hooded eyes and doubtful lips Assess my long-stay permit application Wait. This is hell. Or else a church weekend away. In heaven, The lines of weak and strong Break in confusion at the thought of God Before a limitless horizon.
Mud at the wall 