Grace and Peace to you.
there is no inquisition
after the stilling of your heart and lungs,
no brutal trial, no depressing movie,
no damning questions.
with their scythes, their winnowing forks,
they are already here.
They are not interested in chaff,
not at all.
But there is no test.
They simply harvest what they can, and leave.
No, after the lights go out,
and the Light comes in,
there are only the little cherubs,
so sweet and lovely,
for whom there is only joy in this universe,
simple, and resolutely perfect.
And those gripped by evil who in desperation
have pilfered this world’s joy,
who have sown fear and cherished sorrow,
those the little cherubs will sweetly
plunder of their dear misery,
happily rob them of all of it;
they will strip them of their skin of scorn,
shatter the hate to which they cling,
tear the blindness from their eyes,
strangle their demons, gouge out their shame,
—little smiling angels, tears on their cheeks,
with graceful blades, cooing softly—
cut their fear right out of them
and lift their hearts, still freezing, from their chests,
leaving only God’s,
without so much as an apology,
bind them in tenderness,
plunge them in vats of forgiveness,
pour hot coals of beauty over them—
molten, breath-taking awe—
and pierce them with the gentlest heart-wrenching love,
piling on them relentlessly
the whole weight of all the world’s delight
until they break at last
into helpless tears of joy.
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes