This is a brief glimse into Heaven and what you might find there...
I'm assuming disclaimers are unecessary here, but just to make it clear, I don't own any God or Prophet.
"It's heart breaking." Muhammad sighed, looking through the ethereal globe in the centre of the throne room.
"I tired of watching them long ago." Jesus bitterly agreed, but headed over to peer into it regardless.
"I told them to look after each other." Muhammad exclaimed. Jesus chuckled. "I told them not to harm themselves, and they blow themselves up, I told them not to continue any blood feuds…and they've been warring with the Jewish people for years"
Jesus shook his head sadly.
"You tried my friend." Jesus sympathised and patted Muhammad on his shoulder.
"How goes the earth?" asked Siddhartha as he wandered into the room, his orange robes swishing about his bare feet.
"It turns and turns again." Jesus sighed and shrugged slightly, moving away from the suspended globe.
"What little we do seems…" Muhammad began but faltered in despair.
"So little." Jesus concluded for him. "They band together for natural disasters, but only for the briefest of moments, then it all goes to nothing."
"Ah." Siddhartha nodded
"Your lot are doing ok." Muhammad said with a smile.
"Well, there's good and bad people in every group." Siddhartha pointed out encouragingly.
"Yes…but I haven't heard of any Buddhist monks hijacking planes." Muhammad muttered.
"Or leading a crusade, or burning people they don't agree with, or taking it upon themselves to enforce countless centuries of tyrannical rule…" Jesus was choking up with anger and couldn't go on. Siddhartha wrapped an arm around his shoulders and hugged him gently.
"It's not your fault Jesus, you tried your best." He said.
"I know I know, I said the same thing to Muhammad, but it just doesn't make me feel any better. It's heartbreaking"
"Yes." Muhammad agreed.
"Are you boys coming to dinner?" a delicate voice drifted in on their conversation. Persephone stood in the doorway and smiled at them, her body shimmered with light and as they waved their agreement to her she faded from sight.
"What are your thoughts on the multitude of Gods we've found ourselves with?" Muhammad asked Jesus as they walked along the corridor towards the dinner hall.
"Well…it wasn't what I was brought up to believe of course. I was surprised I'll be honest with you." Jesus admitted "But, it makes sense when you think about it"
"It does?" Muhammad asked, surprised "I spent a long time fighting polytheism, only to find out I was wrong"
"You weren't wrong…what you did was right. You brought people together, you helped create a working society based on right living and moral principles. I consider that a very right thing to do." Jesus smiled.
"I have always believed in a multitude of Gods." Siddhartha added "But I did not expect to find myself in a heaven."
"I did." Muhammad and Jesus chorused, then laughed.
"You're late." Hecate chuckled as she passed them and headed through the double doors that led into the dining room.
The room stretched on for as far as the eye could see and then further, and yet it seemed to fit within a decently sized room. Seated at the table were gods and mortals, Vikings and Romans, warriors, legends, prophets and kings, children and teachers, husbands and wives. There were chairs for them all.
Jesus, Muhammad and Siddhartha found themselves a seat and began to eat happily. Each mouthful tasting as delicious as the first.
"Tell me Jesus", asked Moses from across the table "Do religious debates still hold the same interest to you these days, or have you grown bored of them?"
"Oh...well I've always found religion to be a deeply interesting thing." Jesus replied after swallowing his food. "Why? Did you want to discuss something?"
"No, no, just wondered. I'm beginning to get tired of it to be honest." Moses admitted.
"You're entitled." Jesus agreed. He looked up as his attention was diverted by the chorus of giggling children. A whole host of them were watching in awe as Kali and Durga juggled steaming ears of corn.
"Hot! Hot!" Kali exclaimed, but Jesus could see she was smiling. A loving mother, despite her ferocity.
"Wine?" asked Dionysus as he wandered past. A resounding agreement from many of the seated guests was his reply.
"Ah delicious!" Jesus complimented and held out his goblet "Your wine is most excellent Dionysus"
"Why thank you." Dionysis grinned and Jesus' goblet was filled. Muhammad raised his glass.
"With your permission Dionysus." He chuckled, and his glass was also filled.
Dionysus had moved on towards the stage at the side of the room. His twin piped aulos were resting on a stand for him.
"Apollo my dear." He smirked "Would you care to join this debauched fool in some entertainment"
"Ah very well oh bright like Bacchus. What is it you want of me?" Apollo replied as he wandered onto the stage. Attentions were turning their way.
"Grab thy lyre!" Dionysus exclaimed boyishly "I shall play my aulos without the aid of face straps!"
"If you must, you must." Apollo remarked good humouredly as he unhooked his golden instrument from it's stand. "Not quite complete yet though…are we?"
"Are we not?" Dionysus asked with a small frown of puzzlement.
"You taunt and tease! You know I please, to play my pipes befit the breeze!" Pan cackled and leaped onto the stage with wild gracefulness. He pulled his pipes from his belt and spun them with the finesse of a god.
"And Hathor on the sistrum." The warm motherly voice of the Egyptian goddess reminded them as she floated up onto the stage a halo glimmering between her horns.
"Lest we forget the udders." Pan smirked sideways and danced on the spot.
Hathor turned a large brown eye towards him and for a brief moment it glowed green, the pupil contracting to a vertical black slit down it's center.
"Don't make me get catty with you Pan…" she warned, her voice edged with a hiss.
"Are we ready to rock?" Pan asked, ignoring Hathor as best as he could "Or are we waiting on Joshua and his trumpet?"
Apollo strummed his thumb across the strings, each one perfectly in tune. The true notes of music reverberated from his lyre, even the most finely tuned mortal instrument cannot be as accurate as Apollo's lyre, it will always fall short.
Jesus smiled and sighed happily as the group began to play, their music washing over the assembly in beautiful waves of sound.
"All is love." He whispered under his breath.
"All is finite." Siddhartha breathed.
"Alls well that ends well." Said Adam, leaning over them to reach the fruit bowl. "And isn't that what it's all about?"
The End