Dance of the Heavens

As a child,
when my grandmother died,
I used to think that Heaven
was a place above the clouds.

Each person had their own cloud:
Soft as peace;
Warm as compassion;
Safe as truth.

I used to wonder which cloud was hers.
Who did she speak to?
Did she share her bed with my first pet at night -
an inky blob, with white socks,
keeping her toes toasty and warm?
Did they have parties up there,
with food, and music, and dancing?