unfolding

I take my heaven with me;
it’s smaller than my soul.
It folds its wings up neatly;
waits with patient self-control.

My heaven’s not just pretty;
it’s not cheap; nor was it free.
In fact; it’s bought and paid for
and the owner now is me.

If one can own infinity
or price a tidal pull
my heaven beats
in time with God
whose heart is never full.

I look for heaven often
forgetting what’s inside.
I try to package bits of it;
small morsels I can hide.

Or try to hoard the smallest crumbs
of earthly scarcity
while heaven waits, trembling and strong
to finally unfold me