yet to come

my personal theory is that Heaven
looks a lot like Northern Ireland,
where thorny gorse blooms golden
on the rugged hills
and in the morning the rising sun
gilds the sea with fire;
where tufts of purple thrift
dot the clifftops and, when it’s clear,
you can see across the lough
to Scotland.
though i suppose, for all
the belonging of home i felt,
there on the edge of the world,
that i got it backwards after all,
and that green and wild country
is but a shadow of a glimpse
of the glories yet to come.