Lukewarm Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

The PEARLY GATE.
And I was next.
St. Peter needs to ask
some simple questions.
As if they didn't know,
up there,
with perfect views,
and looking down,
to get their kicks,
I'd say.
'Why, then, my child,
you had a rather
hopeful start,
so promising,
why did you change? '
I well remember
watching you,
you were in,
speaking thermally,
near scalding water,
events were moving,
like molecules
(our tiny children) ,
in agitation,
move faster.
It's what we see,
omnipotent,
all- knowing, yes,
confirm for me
why did you though
transform into
a lukewarm man,
a human of
such miserly
significance?
So bland, so dull
and boring,
that even Hell
would send you back,
due to a lack of interest.
So, WHY, pray tell? '

'Well', I now stammered,
'your Majesty,
it is like this:
We went from
morning mist,
to dawn's first light,
with dew drops,
galdly given
and received.
We then progressed
to Steam,
nocturnal
and diurnal.
To weekly
duty blandness.
Then SHE turned off the tap,
lukewarm it's been
since that event,
a fateful day.
I'm sorry. '

'Welcome St Peter said
our Father's Kingdom
greets you warmly,
and may I add for you to know,
my title in those years on Earth
was never quite enough.'