Since then, I’ve been here. At the Gates of Heaven.
I greet.
I listen.
I unite.
I judge.
I speak on His behalf.
I speak about His place.
I’m human. Extraterrestrial. Everywhere. Nowhere. Man. Woman. Neither one or the other. Beyond all borders. All languages.
You see, I’m like you. In misfortune and in power. Divine and orphaned. I’m made of the same stuff as you. I’m in you. In every body. Every night. Every dream.
Don’t cry, Jallal.
Take his hand, Mathis.
Go. Go. As brothers of the heart. There, behind that door, life has not even begun for you.
Go. On the way you’ll pass a beautiful pomegranate tree. Pick two pomegranates. And later, before you go to sleep, take a moment to eat them.
Come and listen. Downstairs, a mother is getting ready to pray. The echo of her voice will accompany you. It’s Mahalia Jackson. She’ll start singing Trouble of the World.
Listen to her. She speaks the truth. She tells it like it was on the very first day, with the first spark of life. When suddenly, in the infinite, everything exploded and took on new dimensions.
Listen. Listen . . .
Soon I will be done
Trouble of the world
Trouble of the world
Trouble of the world
Soon I will be done
Trouble of the world
Going home to live with God
No more weeping and wailing
No more weeping and wailing
Going home to live with my Lord
Soon I will be done
Trouble of the world
Trouble of the world
Trouble of this world
Soon I will be done
Trouble of the world
Going home to live with my Lord
I want to see my mother
I want to see my mother
I want to see my mother
Going home to live with God
Soon I will be done
Trouble of the world
Trouble of the world
Trouble of the world
I soon will be done
With the trouble of the world
I’m going home to live with God