The river stops
Short of the sea
Not knowing
If the deep would be
Its death or deliverance;
Can heaven not be entered
In our own image,
Under our own name,
With our house, soul mate, garden,
Books, bosom friends, songs, music,
Favourite foods, drinks, fragrances,
The past glowing like a full moon,
With all bad memories erased,
And no new desires,
To make waking undesirable?
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