The truth about writing poetry: a parable

Two Dedicated Poets die on the same day. One goes to heaven; the other to hell,  nothing to do with their poems.

In Heaven the Angel takes the poet to a long sweeping beach. “Your reward”, says the Angel, “is to spend eternity counting the grains of sand on the beach”.

The poet smiles and asks; “And because this is heaven the number of the grains of sand is finite?”

‘Yes’, says the Angel, happy to see that the poet understands the blessing of it.

The poet kneels and worships the wisdom and kindliness of God.

Meanwhile:

In Hell, the Imp takes the other poet to a long sweeping beach. 'Your punishment', says the Imp, 'is to spend eternity counting all the grains of sand on the beach'.

The poet scowls and says, ‘And because this is hell….”

The Imp, laughing with demonic, impish glee interrupts Impishly: “The number of the grains of sand is infinite.”

The poet laughs. ‘This isn’t damnation’, he says, ‘this is just business as usual’.