Perhaps the light in heaven
Will be like
The light on a June morning
Where it comes
Slanting across the fields,
Gilding the green
and shoots straight through
The windows facing east.
Released within the room
It penetrates
The green shirt
Hanging from a bureau drawer,
The socks and loafers
Heaped upon the floor.
Everything gleams with gold.
Transformed
As we shall be
When morning comes for us
And God's great love
Illuminates our souls
And sets us free.
Elizabeth B. Rooney (1994)
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