Thursday, December 12, 2013


The squires of Heaven, busy again. Nelson Mandela is chatting up Whitney,
Elvis is teaching God Most High guitar, St Peter is doing the usual press release,
God is sharper than Eric Clapton, Elvis is stunned. You learned that in a minute, he says in that drawl, St Peter is a slow typist, Steve Jobs is showing him an apple, can I bite it laughs Peter,  That isn’t funny quips God. The mood among the gathering is high, the evil front is on the run, it’s total harmony, and the angels are moving easily, cutting down one by one, the threads of the evil web, in a matter of time there will be none.
One last push states God, they are getting it right down there, I haven’t laughed this much, his joy is as infectious as a cherished child, anyone with a special request he smiles, he’s ready to pour out his graces, a double dose of the miraculous is on, an Irish Monk, a celebrated preacher while on earth, fosterer of faith is centre stage,
He has his list of prayer requests, there are tears in his eyes, understands the hopes of many are coming through, he remembers some old friends, in particular a small bunch of cheerful nuns, they feed the poor and clothe everyone, they have a crisis in funding, and have been praying to Father Nivard, he’s long way from Tipperary, the old monk who preached so well. He’s a wink in his eye, a bottle of Irish whiskey in his hand, he can drink as much as he wants, doesn’t get tipsy anymore, no one ever in Heaven feels unwell.
He looks at Whitney, a hymn for an old man he wonders; she reads his mind and sings him Christmas carols instead.
How’s the boy doing down there, God looks at Peter, I sent then your instructions, he’s eating porridge as requested, and is being guarded as well.
Mother Christmas enters the den, she’s a former model, but is golden looking, is Irish of course, and she sings a duet every evening, with the honey voiced singer, Eva Cassidy as her back up.
The elders are assembled, waves of men and women, the dining room goes on for miles and miles, stretches , and the wine is being served. Johnny cash is giving a warm up performance, Otis Redding is waiting in the aisle, patience quips God, to Otis, this is going on for ever. John Lennon wants to get in on the act, you believe now laughs God, and you thought it was all imagination, it brings John to tears.

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