The Wildberries in Heaven

The Wildberries in Heaven

Through the meadow pass, the heavenly host walk 
Through the golddust ways.
Gleefully, they pluck the wildberries
Searching for the flowers in the tall grains
By the park paths.
They pluck them from the stem
And eat, a living fruit which bears to eternity
The little berry they found, in the flower
In the field like a Chicory, Violet or Daisy;
Its fruit matured, one of the twelve kinds,
And the children meander through the meadow grains
And eat the fruit, by the tall trees
In their perfect shapes.
Many children are made, and they have more room to roam,
"Increase our borders" they will say,
And they shall expand out into heavenly cities
Unoccupied, millennia, eons, down the way
And there, shall move through the opalescent cities;
New colors, as pleasing to the eyes as Green and Blue and Brown
Shall dazzle us, in spectacles of new sight and taste.
The geese and their ganders shall swim in the frothy waters
Of the lakes and cataracts, and fly hither and thither
To come to you, and they shall be milked.
Or the crocodile, too, shall wander to you like a wiggly pup
And shall roll over, and be milked.
And yet, the trees shall wave and clap their hands
And play with you, on the tire swings or the jump ropes
And the gemstones shall litter the walkways.
It shall be beautiful. More beautiful than all of this.