If there is ground in heaven, I believe it must be covered with a thick layer of fallen pine needles.
If there is music in heaven, I believe it must be the wind brushing against the land as spirits travel through the sky.
If there is an aroma in heaven, I believe it must be the scent of a fire’s transformation of wood into ember.
And if heaven has a heaven, I believe the night sky must shine above it, stars shimmering from the past while the moon carries out its orbital dance.
Glancing up from the campfire, I look toward heaven.
And I find myself already there.