The Other Word for Paradise
November 15, 2009 by John Keats This time it’s different. I didn’t mean to say goodbye. God is a door toward which the wind takes us. Open it. He is a gate. Beyond the gate another gate until you reach the last. Finally, when you least need it, the thing you couldn’t have asked for comes. It feels strange now to accept it. To look the man in the face and say, God bless. I knew it was a wound. Still, custom makes men say terrible things. But not so when he wants to be useful. Then he is dangerous. Then he might offer his life. It might have been a gift if I were able to accept it. Thank you. Thank you. And then, Goodbye. When I was young I used to sing a song about forgiveness. Now I want to know the other word for paradise. Thank you, with all my heart. Wish you the best. |