Sometimes the thoughts make me tired, and for this month, I walk down the street.
Need wine to get there.
To the Pacific.
It roars like every Lion should.
And I just watch. Watch the waves crash in.
It makes sense then.
Ink to the shore, city lights down the coast.
They’re fucking for dinner in the city, but on the horizon only God.
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
I’m living in California for the next month or so, and have been lucky to find a yoga studio I like. It reminds me of the Miami studios where I first fell in love with yoga. In shavasana tonight, they played John Lennon’s Imagine.
Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today…
I don’t want to imagine there is no heaven. With all my heart, I hope there is one. Seven years ago, I watched my Grandmother die. At age 93, she was innocent. There was a strength in her no one could touch. She went to church every Sunday, patient, humble, sweet. She believed there was a heaven, that Christ rose from the dead.
She asked me to say Hail Mary’s. I say one most every night. I pray to God, and ask him to forgive me, to watch over my friends and loved ones. To send my Dad strength, and to protect my Mom and Sister from anyone who would do them harm. I pray for my Grandmother, my Grandfather, and for all those I know who have died. I can feel them with me. Sometimes they whisper in my ear. They watch over me.
I don’t imagine there is no heaven. I imagine the bonds I’ve forged on this earth lasting forever. I imagine meeting my Grandmother again.
I imagine there is a heaven.
It’s easy if you try.