where
every leaf’s gold-splashed with morning dew
with
curlew and cuckoo calling
and
pigeons clapping their wings in soaring and tumbling flight
I see
mayflies dance their ephemeral waltz above the slow waters
I hear
a sedge warbler chirr from the bright jumble of kingcup and yellow flag
I taste
a myriad scents that mingle in the gentle air.
And if heaven is not something at least a bit like this
then I shall feel sorely cheated.
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