by Isaac 'Slimx'

A place of joy and pleasure,
Where pains nor hurts exists,
its all over around us,
why look for it afar?

When I meet the homeless laying,
In freezing cold on planks and boards,
And I stop to give him my coat,
To cover his weary sleepy head,

When I see the lost as I drive by,
Trekking to destination unknown,
And stop to give him a helping hand,
A lift to ease his painful heart,

Those sick, diseased and afflicted,
Having no hope of cure nor relief,
And I visit them with words of hope,
Of a better life not far from here,

When all I have is just a dime,
With tons of bills and fares to pay,
And split it in the middle with love
Half for the needy and half for me,

When Iím light to those in darkness,
Lighting their paths with a heart of joy,
And their ways with no hope of a reward,
Making their pilgrim walk a little easier,

When I donít gossip my neighbours,
Nor say things untrue about my friends,
Nor lend to the poor with interest,
To increase my fleeting wealth,

When I speak the truth in love,
And speak it always and boldly,
No matter whose ox is gored,
Though my secret maybe expose,

When I keep my words and promises,
Though circumstances may change,
And the tide turns against me,
And my interest not protected,

When I do not call evil, good,
Nor say that darkness is light,
Nor join the bandwagon of injustice,
Nor say that right is wrong.

When I see the lost and addicts,
And love him just as he is,
Not judging all his mistakes,
Nor fill my heart with hatred,

When I see a child of colour,
Looking for his life destiny,
And I donít discriminate against him,
Nor deny him of his right,

When I honour she that brought me forth,
And despised not my father,
Though they set no good path for my feet,
Amidst life frustrating ventures,

When I reverence the elderly,
Respecting whom respect is due,
And do not disrespect my brother man,
Nor dishonour my sister woman,

When Iím eyes to the blind,
And ears to the deaf,
When Iím legs to the lame,
A helper of the helpless,
A father to the fatherless,
When my ear are open to the cry,
Of the afflicted known and unknown,
When I stop to help the aged,
And Iím compassionate to the widow,

In pleasure and in pains,
By day and by night,
In plenty and in lack,
In poverty and in prosperity,
In sickness and in health,
At winter and at summer,
At spring and at autumn,

Then I donít need to die to get there,
I need not look far beyond me,
For I am right there in Heaven.

Heaven by Isaac 'Slimx'

© Copyright 2008. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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