If Heaven Were Ossipee
for Judith McIntire Haydash
The house Dad built would forever remain
Watchman of the Shore.
And, we would race.
Oh, we would race,
with legs that never tired of racing,
down those sturdy steps,
arms sailing like kites
in the New Hampshire breeze,
to that magical space
where the water kisses the Earth.
And, Lake Ossipee
would swallow our young bronzed bodies
as we swam, swam,
as we swam to our heart’s content–
water creatures in our element–
to the island
that was just within our reach,
laughing and bobbing
all the way.
Above us,
the sun would hang
by it’s invisible thread
from a perfect orange-blue sky
that would never fade.
Because–
this is Heaven, afterall.
No need to tire.
No need to stop swimming.
To stop gliding on those skies while Dad drives his glorious inboard faster and faster
through the white-tippped waves
No need to stop rowing
in the quiet hours spent with Mom as you float slowly through
the labyrinth of the Ossipee bays.
The Cadillacs are there
lined in the yard
washed and waxed
and ready to roll.
The aroma of Mom’s cooking.
The neighborhood boys.
And, the sweet sounds of symphonies
drenching the New England air:
Winged angels on violins,
cellos,
oboes,
the grand piano we grew up with
floating somewhere near the mountain ridge.
There is no need to worry.
This is God’s Time,
and we are immersed in it–
bathed in all its majestic, innocent, perfect glory.
And, we are welcome here
for as long as we can love,
which is a very long time.
submitted by Emily Coolbeth
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