In a coffee shop where people go between their homes and puppet shows, I found myself one typical day in a faraway land as a castaway. At an island table in a cramped human sea, surrounded by strangers so strange to me. Between a sense of shore and expanse, I erased the horizon and welcomed the trance.

Sailing away in a newfound lane, passing over the pious profane, across a cold dessert, past crippled trees, running from something in search of release.

Then something besides the something I feared, caught me up and a feeling appeared. There above my vain contradictions, it lifted me out of my dark inner fiction.

Like a child born to a painless birth, like a gentle whisper wrapped round the earth, warm blood flowed and flooded my veins, rays of light breathed through closed windowpanes. I could not step forward, I could not sit down, I was planted in place ecstatically bound.

An invisible clock drew me into its gears, time was a waterfall and minutes were tears.  It shifted my ground to a realm beyond space, where no pain or suffering could ever take place. Then my outdated body recaptured its youth, and I wondered if this was a lie or the truth.

In that passing moment and once it had passed, I was freed from a need to know at long last. My eyes were my own, I was no longer blind, my vison now cleared by an untroubled mind.

Is there a heaven, some paradise then? A God who is willing to so condescend?

If all that I get is this taste, that’s enough, for what I have left while I’m left here on earth.