Mama always told me of a place Where happiness filled, and my creator lived She called it Heaven Like Santa Claus gifting at Christmas, Only people on the nice list get in So Mama said to read the Bible, and be obedient To pray always For the living and the dead, the known and unknown She said it was heaven's pass So every night, With heavy eyes, Feeble hands clasped together, And weary knees to the floor A ritual of supplications and intercessions were offered Growing up, I got overwhelmed by life's race I fell short of grace And forsook Mama's rites Full of distress and uncertainty, I sought to discover the Heaven Mama used to talk of In an endless search, I starved, and burned my soul Until I helped that old Lady cross the road And fed that hungry homeless man Alas! I found it. Not Mama's heaven My own heaven While good deeds may not be a pass into Mama's heaven I feel fulfilled For I have found my own heaven In the rewarding smile of an uplifted soul