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Heaven is like scattering seeds. Day/night pass. A bird carries them away. They grow somewhere but you do not know where, how—or why.
Heaven is a bird that comes to rest in a topmost branch of a tall tree. The tree bends and sways but does not break, and the bird stays in the tree calling to others in their own treetops where new growth comes.
Heaven is a squirrel running the same path back and forth many times a day high above the city streets branch to branch without falling and leaping out in faith and in driving snow then the squirrel waits until snow drops off or blows away and runs again same path away and back in leaves or bare limbs in sun or overcast, cold, warm, and when night comes, the squirrel hides with a nut to prepare for another day of running.
the clock plays
a Christmas carol