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The Gates of Heaven

This is an ‘Easter’ poem exploring the dilemma a Reverend could have been faced had Jesus not been resurrected on the third day. I’d love to know what you think of it 🙂


The many books that line my shelves; my desk and halls filled too
They speak of truth, in search of it, enlightenment they spew

Illuminate, solidify, it’s my mind pages preserve
The light I claim, I do, I will; Thee I bow to serve

Upon my bed, heavy of breath; in wheezes it escapes
Scintillant Heaven entice my soul; near I’m to your gates

Chest constricts, the proud mantle; life-jacket deflated
Tenanted, the earthy vessel; finally vacated

Wrought and rusted, armoured gates; unexpectedly received
“Welcome, Reverend,” hissed a beast; scarred and most displeased

“I killed your king, that cross he bore; I seized the upper hand
His descent to claim a key, went exactly as I planned.”

“Hold your inane tongue, reverend; lend ear, I make a bid
Abdicate, kowtow to me, or of warmth and comfort rid.”

“Appeal to me, implore asylum; venerable, I am your Lord
Else Hades fires still burn hot; rev, just say the word.”

About Jason


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