In heaven, I’ll sing in the choir of saints
And sacrifice offerings of fire on the tongue;
No more lamentations, complaints, or constraints,
Just infinite celebrations to be sung.
But that noisy bar where I went drinking last night
Won’t be there in heaven.
In heaven, I’ll sit on the council eternal
And keep the Creation for Him from on high;
This little blue ball to the canvas supernal,
We’ll speak in assembly, the angels and I.
But that warm diner where I sat down for a bite
Won’t be there in heaven.
In heaven, I’ll come face-to-face with the One
And know who I am, all the secrets revealed;
I’ll be one more moon round that infinite sun,
Reflecting that light, all the brokenness healed.
But that little cafe where I stopped in to write
Won’t be there in heaven.