There is no such thing as heaven.
How can there be?
Beautiful, empty words
Fruition of history and wishful belief.
But I believe in Afterlife.
Not in a paradise or scorching inferno;
But through the sin that is
Egg meets sperm
Under a million circumstances
Under the same sun,
The same moon.
The same blood.
The same basic elements-
That make up life, that sustain life,
That will nourish your son and mine.
How will they see us?
The continuance of our flesh and blood.
How will they live?
The angels with youthful faces and magically renewed life.
When they turn their soft, smooth visages
Backwards, and gaze at the path they’re on-
The path we’ve carried them thus far on-
What will they think?
Do they see wisdom?
Technology, diplomacy, discovery?
Do they see chaos?
War, explosions, plagues?
Do they see beauty?
Art, life, love?
Will they even look?
Everything I am doing
In this life, this short, transitory life
Is to redeem myself
When I meet my Judgment.
And that, my love,
Will come through the hands of my children.
Therefore you must live,
Live to live on-
Live to pass on-
Our terrible, insignificant legacy.