Some people actually imagine heaven as a paradise garden in the clouds with tired angels in it, a big golden garden fence in front and Saint Peter as an usher. I don’t. I have an idea of heaven too, but it’s different.
Heaven is like a Summer August Day
Heaven is like a summer August day,
When the sky turns blue,
Foliage and meadows green vibrant.
You look ahead and the horizon seems
Endless floating under the aether:
Rye fields lie golden before you,
A sea of sunny fulfillment.
Heaven is like a summer August day,
In the celestial morning the little birds sing
And the sun magically glitters through the branches.
Sunflowers bloom and wild winds, azure with golden streaks.
The sun shines mildly, the weather is eternal,
It’s vacation time, the air swings fresh,
No idea of an end, no diseases, no suffering.
And no spoilsports, no one to wreck your joy.
Heaven is like a summer August day,
There doesn’t have to be much going on
In this heaven, except friendship:
Friendship is the true fulfillment of life.
You can visit whoever you want, whenever you want.
And no one will harm you.
Heaven is like a summer August day,
Gently the waves are swinging on a beach.
You could look for shells here, or just listen.
It is up to you how you want to use your eternity,
At the moment you are still dreaming.
Heaven is when you are a little girl with freckles,
And the whole big adventure of life is still ahead of you:
But you’re breathing in the moment,
In this magnificent ice cream parlor,
All your friends are with you.
You know the best is yet to come,
And the best is the big colorful sundae,
Then the adventure begins,
Then you are free.
The anticipation is usually the most heavenly joy,
And so I imagine heaven.
* * *
