The man,
Sitting on the ledge,
His eyes,
Twinkling with mischievous smile
Said \"Get Out\"
There was a pause
Filled in by the wind
Echoed with eerie synchronicity - \"Get Out\"
The man on the ledge
Something jolted him out of reverie
Whispered - \"The game of life ...
... Is for the ghosts.
You are far too young for this profanity ...
...Get Out\"
Said the man sternly,
far too loud for my delicate ears
\"Been searching high and low for hell...
Heaven has banned the immigrants...
...Get Out\"
He beckoned me to the edge
Asked me to look at the sheer drop to impermanence
A peaceful smile framed his face
\"Let\'s get out\"
I said wait:
\"You found no hell
Heaven is out of reach for immigrants
When we dive into the abyss...
.. and the road rushes near...
when we are just tiny fraction of a second ...
...away from death
Who would come to receive us ...
... at our journey\'s end?\"
The man,
An abrupt laugh
Looked at me like I was an errant child
Said in a Zen-like voice
\"We don\'t belong in heaven...
...nor do we belong in hell
I, me, you and everything else...
...exist in permanence
Far, far beyond our earthly ignorance\"