Outside on the prairie, even in the midst of agricultural industry, it is possible to think of Heaven up beyond the clouds, as someplace to fly to, someplace to go; responding to memory – purest memories, sounds – harmoniously resolved, faults – most grievous faults – transformed.
Sometimes when people, or plural peoples, are dying they … reconsider. There may have been signs to consider as they wandered along, but the somber utility of life does get in the way of understanding. Understanding, for example, music and a celestial future. Heaven may be just a long stretched out sheep pasture with wandering folks in pure white veils and angelic wings humming delirious melody and harmony, or it may be silence in a baptism of color.
In the spirit of reconsidering; what of music, the singing, presumably transforming the silence in Heaven. Is there a night club, dance hall, church, or bar and grill with actual musicians on your same plane (elevated and very divine), or is some virtual recording, (obviously repetitive – eternity is a long long time) playing only for you.
Maybe some faint hope of fame in Heaven, ( like singing in the Divinity’s shower) is worth practicing (here) to gain.
Is the heavenly-hopeful immigrant musician expected to carry speakers, amplifiers, recording devices et.al. from this present here and now into the afterlife, on his back like so much refugee detritus.
Is it absurd to think that Heaven needs a sound track? imagined here? – in the earthly realm – could it really matter? do they have sub-woofers blasting all the crap to Hell (the repository of faults)?
And does interruption, certain sounds, matter more than silence, do some acceptable interruptions maybe … achieve the heavenly transformation?