GROTTO

It's easy to believe in heaven on a day like this,
when clouds make cream of the sky
and the wind handles us kindly.

Then we wonder if heaven is really beyond those clouds,
and if so, how far away is it?
The clouds confuse us like dreams, rushing and moving,
going backwards, turning upside down,
sometimes disappearing.

Heaven must be a divine grotto we can't see yet,
white and full of light we have to work hard for.
God must be inside it, leaning out,
resting his huge elbows on those sturdy clouds,
watching us like newborns in a rickety crib,

waiting for us and puzzling why we don't look up more often.