My heaven


Ok, soo What Dreams May Come version…
What does my heaven look like?

My heaven has a front porch that wraps around a cabin from the front to the back so we can see both the rising and setting of the sun curled up in warm blankets with crickets for a symphony.

It has twinkle lights in all the trees each night a different color. There are animals wandering through all the time, because they know no one dies in my heaven.

There are trees of every type and every size, some equipped for tree sleepovers. Hugging is not only acceptable, but requested.

The trees can talk if you listen and sit patiently. The moon is always full and watchful.

There are stars, soo many you couldn’t count them, but you try..every night.

The rockers we sit on are wood and the fireplace inside crackles cheerfully on chilly nights that are just a bit nippy in Winter. So cheeks can blush, and we can pretend it is the cold that made them that way, instead of his smile, which still makes me shy.

There are paintings on every wall. Each room alive with thought and feeling. There are moments mixed with memories. There are quilts, pillows, carpets, and big comfy places to linger.

There are other types of art too. Wooden bowls, baskets and glass, each with a use but still beautiful, because life is beautiful..and these are a celebration of living.

The floors creak with age, and the doors stick a little, but each dent and scratch has a story attached to it, like his face, it ages but remains loved.

There is often a sound of running both human and furry, and the slamming of the door is generally accompanied by a half-hearted admonishment, to stop running in and out, because it’s habit, not because anyone really wants them to stop.

There are sounds all day both boisterous and heartfelt but night sounds are softer like hearing a whisper in another room, but not loud enough to wake, just enough to reassure.

There are books everywhere, but part of the place, like a family member that were they missing would be missed. Bookshelves of various sizes and stature, both young and decrepit, since all are welcome here.

A large window looks over a wee garden in back, where a sewing frame rests waiting with a current project. Where windchimes can be heard on windy days, and sunshine comes to peek at the work-in-progress.

There are children’s drawings hanging like art, right next to photographs of the proud artists. There is evidence of playing, everything carefully prepared for the next days adventures.

There are quirky things on side tables, that speak of hobbies and childhood. Nestled, Oh so happily! With bits of rock and twig, because there really is no such thing as inside/outside.

The kitchen smells often linger in the air…drawing noses and tummies into well used kitchen chairs. The table is scarred by use, but lovingly caressed by old and new fingers. There are cups of tea and chocolate cookies. There are cold glasses of juice and warm muffins. There are chicken dinners and lasagne. There is always something to eat, especially at night, for awakened dreamers to munch contentedly before slipping back into bed.

This is my heaven.

Somewhere a man exists who will make my heaven home.

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