I often thought of the heaven gates
that they would be cruel, like sharp blades.
I dreamt of a ladder and a mountain path
that would lead me to an account of my life.
The entrance was there – a silent, murky fence.
The trial was looming in fog and reverence.
I met God’s servants along my way.
Yet – no books, no balance, no pretense.
Karet – the old man whispered, weaponless.
He banished my soul, on my judgment day.