489
We pray—to Heaven—
We prate—of Heaven—
Relate—when Neighbors die—
At what o'clock to heaven—they fled—
Who saw them—Wherefore fly?
Is Heaven a Place—a Sky—a Tree?
Location's narrow way is for Ourselves—
Unto the Dead
There's no Geography—
But State—Endowal—Focus—
Where—Omnipresence—fly?
Emily Dickinson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/we-pray-mdash-to-heaven/
