This is my kind of thread. I've been writing about my idea of Heaven, actually.
Ten is the realm of Heaven and often the two are one and the same. It is the home of the gods themselves, astronomical in size and limitless in the delights it provides.
Twisting roads cobbled from polished river stones snake through an eternally beautiful forest so dense that the treetops reveal only small portals of starlight. Though dark as night, it is lit by the glowing jewels that stud the extremities of conifer trees taller than towers and older than eons. Kami of every sort walk and wisp between these arboreal titans, lighting iron-hard bark with the jade light of their ghostly tails.
Dotting the sides of the roads are moss-spattered stones twice the height of men that lean inward like old men listening to the praises of their grandchildren. When they are passed by the souls of the deceased, the wind blows through their rain-bored holes and whisper in their ears praise for the many compassionate deeds they have committed in the mortal world and how these acts had benefited others.
Within the thick-shadowed glades sheltered by the twisting walls of trees are hot springs occupied by the weary souls of the dead and attended by the nymphs that listen to their tales of woe and wonder with sympathetic ears. It is said that the most remote springs are home to ancient goddesses of the natural world, their stag-like horns dressed in red lacquer branching from the aromatic clouds of steam. Bared they emerge, these ancient beings enriched by long-forgotten songs of praise welcome the virtuous dead with open arms, sharing their forbidden waters with those who have ventured so far into the woods to hear their secrets and stories of ages past.
Deeper still within the woods are cozy cottages and cabins made with the finest skill yet with the most humble tones, textures and materials. Here there is no overstimulation, no wanton lust or righteous excess - only warmth, comfort and solitude that await their occupants.
The forest's ecosystem itself is a holy parody of its earthly counterparts, with different beings occupying the different aspects of its bounty. In the tangled undergrowth of this massive forest live the fairies, elves and sprites that filled the dreams of countless generations. Amidst the highest branches sleep strange celestial birds and dragons whose feathers swing upon ancient winds to the forest floor, joining golden pinecones in soft beds of needles. And within the blessed soil below are worms and beetles that work tirelessly to convert the energies of regret and remorse into fertile loam.
Under crimson pavilions wrought from black roof tiles and diamond-hard beams of celestial wood are mazes of bookshelves lit by lantern spirits. Musty, illuminated manuscripts the size of cornerstones are read by the curious and the studious, their knowledge so respected that even fire itself would never dare to even singe the corners of their lavish pages. Here the air is still with a calming quiet that silences the background noise within every mind.
Cutting the cities of Heaven apart with graceful, curving sweeps are stone-walled canals flowing with waters green with life more often than not. The whims of the Kami swing like wind-chimes and the canal's contents can turn from water to liquid starlight, green tea, mother's milk or the sweetest of wines to name but a few possibilities. (More to come)