NDE Poetry Page
Click on the Poem Link or scroll down.
by James Francis
Poem by Walt Whitman
Renew - a survival poem
Jordan Blake Crump
CARL GUSTAV JUNG
by James Francis
get this info and more in Free
A True Story.
I was twenty-two years old, and it was the early nineteen seventies.
A book landed in my lap about the soul, reincarnation,
our Companion/Creator, and gratefully, the pieces fell together
as was planned, I’m sure.
Suddenly, there was nothing more important to me
than restoring the missing link with my Father/Creator.
So one day, armed with some suggested head, neck, and
breathing exercises that would only require a few minutes of
concentration, I embarked upon my first effort at meditation.
I would talk to my Creator in prayer, and then listen for Him.
I was simply happy to finally have a direction in life,
which was now and for the first time,
to say hello to my Creator and thank Him
for choosing me to be a part of this whole Eternal plan and clan,
and to see if there was anything I could do for Him.
I sat in my best comfortable attempt at a lotus cross-legged position.
Now, I cannot hand you my experience,
that being the pure and sincere intimacy through which my mind
and heart traveled for thirty or forty minutes or so, but trust me,
my Entire heart was in it.
So if He had Anything to say,
there was nothing more important to me
from the tips of my toes, to the torch in my heart,
than to tune in.
And I waited . . .
and heard nothing; nothing at all.
Eventually I prayerfully said my good-byes to a voice I never heard and opened my eyes. I felt inwardly good, unfolded my limbs, stretched out on the bed, and was smiling now with eyes closed, basking in the comforting thought that I had the rest of my life to learn how to hear God through meditation. I was proud of my first effort and enjoyed an afterglow
of inner satisfaction . . .
there was a “pop” sound/sensation in my head
(and the following is as best as I can describe the event).
I am instantly taken on an ever-tightening Spiral of Flashing Light,
moving at a tremendous speed,
seemingly upward, yet inward
and I am inside what I can only describe
as a tiny diamond Fire Spark of Divinity
(and God knows I was not in control of the steering).
Now, folks, when the I within the spiral comes to a stop,
how do I say this, except to say that,
“O Lord, I am not worthy”
was the only all-consuming feeling and thought I could muster from
within my very nicely crumbling, overwhelmed, and grateful being,
for I was held in the Infinite Presence of the Face of God,
beyond the scope of anything we have ever dreamed of,
and there are no words to capture the indescribable
divine wonderment of the creative source of all life.
It’s all way too big for any of the boxes
we have sought to put our Creator in,
so I can only humbly,
and do so now in the name of peace,
We are in Unfathomably Good Hands.
I don’t know how long I was “there.”
I was looking into forever and stripped of my Timex.
When my eyes opened, I had returned as me, in this body, in this world,
and I also understood clearly,
I was not of it.
None of us are native earthlings; but rejoice,
we get the best of all worlds.
(Afterward, I did recall that while I was in that Presence, it felt as though I was in some sort of an invisible, spherical, almost egg-shaped protective energy bubble that seemed to have provided me safe passage and kept me intact, as it were, though nothing . . . could ever be the same.
Implications that I would like to point out:
I would say that I went from the consciousness of material solidity (the physical body, the earth, and the awareness of myself as the human I am) and spiraled into the realm and throne of our Divine Source,
in maybe five seconds!
(And God knows that traveling at the speed of Light eliminated any chance of me screaming for help.)
To me, that’s an intriguing thought that begs contemplation in terms of the supposed reality we find ourselves in. It seems as though time and space are conceptualized tools of measurement at our disposal. They allow us the opportunity to experience and express our divine self through the vehicle of the evolution of an individual soul destined to be co-creative companions to the Creator.
Wonder how we’re all doing?
I would say divinely well, regardless of appearances.
I saw God,
though Not as a man,
as this experience is apparently only made possible by accessing
the spiritual dashboard of Our Piece of the Spark and Spirit of Life.
And trust me, it’s the best piece you’ll ever have.
Also, in an effort to further convey the experience to the reader,
I feel that the phrase “I saw God” should be worded differently.
“The Presence gave me sight of the Truth of Itself,”
and the little eyeball orbs we are used to using here
had no meaning there, and were knocked out of commission
in favor of absorbing the Light of the Divine Force of Life and Love.
And I was totally humbled,
but not because God wanted me to feel humble
(nope, that was all my idea),
but because I found it impossible to not melt before such as is our Father and Creator.
(I doubt you will do much better, but you won’t care anyway.)
By the way, you will find there are no “questions” floating around your mind at that moment
(in case you are saving up a good one for when you see Him next).
All there is really is one Way Big Answer.
It has never happened since (never needed it to), and I have always been amused at the fact that it occurred only on my first attempt at meditation, and only when I had finished that effort. My word for that is . . .
(and I know where my sense of humor came from).
Another implication I draw from the experience is that our religious dogmas and doctrines most often do not support the possibility of any direct approach for us to experience our divine self, plus we have generally accepted that our invisible God is also unknowable and consciously perceived as a separate entity from us. And “as you believe, so shall it be done” is again applicable to what we do or don’t experience. We have many self-imposed boundaries that we might do well to drop from our minds and hearts, but that is forever up to each one of us and the paths we choose.
I just wanted people to know, you always have options
that you may have not even known existed.
So thirty-seven or so years have passed without ever hearing any information about anyone seeing God lately. Then just recently, I stumbled upon a Hebrew word, the Merkabah, via the Internet and YouTube. You may search “merkabah” for yourself to retrieve the relevance I found to the above “true story.” But suffice it to say, I was pleased to have found such information.
We know not of what brilliance we proceed from
unless we care to seek and know of such stuff.
And what Father would hide from His children?
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
Pretty simple and direct,
with no qualifying time frame given for such endeavors.
It’s always totally up to us
to seek whatever we will, whenever we will.
Also for the record, I am not suggesting in any way
that the purpose of anyone’s life
should be to have a face-to-face meeting with God.
The experiences we seek are those that the soul outlines
before arrival and extension into this place.
They may have the appearance of something far removed from
spiritual endeavors, and yet be the perfect path for the soul.
But I am sure it will Never hinder the progress of any soul
to wear the face of God that we have been given
in a manner that promotes compassion, mercy, forgiveness,
and goodwill toward all man.
Poem by Walt Whitman
"And what do you think has become of the women and children?
They are alive and well somewhere,
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at
the end to arrest it,
And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.
All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.
Has any one supposed it lucky to be born?
I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I
I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd
babe, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots,
and peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good,
The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good.
I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth,
I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal
and fathomless as myself
(They do not know how immortal, but I know.)"
Religions are based on scripture, which is mostly poetry. So it only makes sense that religious conflict must be resolved through poetry, and not through politics, negotiation, or war. I propose that all religious conflicts be redefined poetically, so that they can be resolved without bloodshed, winners, or losers. So let's sharpen our pencils, not our swords; send missives, not missiles; and apply our minds to metaphor, simile, rhyme, meter, and prosody, but not pomposity, animosity, ferocity, atrocity, or monstrosity.
Best regards, Hugh Mann hughmann@organicMD.org http://organicMD.org
I'm not well
If you are sick
I'm not rich
If you are poor
I can't live
If you're not free
I depend on you
And you can depend on me
A brother is no bother
We all have the same Father
RENEW - a survival poem - (c) email@example.com
you constructed an equilibrium for your
gave thanks in pause for lavished love's stability
your roots, like talons for your everyday conviction
sunk into the flesh of a life upheld in its distinction
with all meaning locked in the knave of your life's valley
taking stock of dreams-let-go, factoring a bitter tally
hills too high for need to scale, trapped in fortification
a valley holding its floods to garner immobilization
thus with mud afoot your gait now growing ever heavy
cabin walls demand rent in smiles - laboring unsteady
existing in monotony's service, clutching on to denial
consoling your heart, cocooned and apart
in bitter trial
pendulum ticking, building anger not given in to hush
reason scattering like a raven startled from a brush
with raised fist to challenge the heavens for your plight
thunder crashes loudly, while hope gives way to night
when morning breaks you panic while viewing the debris
a heart now broken, cursed to mend what it can not see
so you gather flint for fire while offering up a pity barter
compromise your only hope, bargaining a steep marker
depression wears your splendid gloom as if a silly hat
morbid mindset dripping self-sorry from a broken tap
senses lying frozen like frost bitten digits in the snow
hoping for reanimation in veins where blood once flowed
then from out of your cave you raise your beaten gaze
hope blossoms have sprouted from fire ravaged blaze
while too afraid to begin again steps are small and few
with trust as your sounding board you test the sky's blue
time, in its patronizing way has healed impossible scars
serenity given acceptance, shards again becoming glass
the cycle complete graduating you with a knowing look
night gives back the gift of sleep and all the peace it took
HOSPITAL By Dina Grutzendler
A new energy-incarnates
rips, knocking head first
hoarse cry …
oh dim light knife in the pupil !
oh metallic ice bath on the bloody skin !
oh great fall into void ! ...
night - endless night -
roof-quasar fleeing fast
How can a mother in anesthesia vapor
touch the lonely cry of the child…?
How can the useless little hands
swim back towards the warm amniotic ocean?
Oh separating body!!
An own spirit has been given to each body
Each hermit has received his load
The hospital doors are wide open
two shaking wanderers re-learn to walk
and welcome the new light full of painful noise
Hospital, you have injected energy into living matter !
In the middle of the road
a tumor seeds chaotic entropy
a stressed body has lost its order
the immune system army runs scattered …
is a silent moan between two worlds
is a collapse dragged through naked corridors
In the operating room
energy spreads its huge wings
and dances on a tightrope
Perhaps the traveler
will cry through his salty blisters
the sea will bathe him, returning him to the first cell
the sun will toast two bodies
in total loving embrace
with ultraviolet caress and infrared ardor
CARL GUSTAV JUNG
The child entered the world of the great powerful
with holes in his shoes,
his diminished pride
inflated a judge arrogance
to fall subjugated
in his own abyss
under his feet
and I always in love with Jung……
with Eckhart he blew apple-rose life
with Shopenhauer he complained of pain
and with Kant he knew
One day he dreamed protecting a light
between his shell of hands
the tiny consciousness light
beside the powerful shadows of darkness
but his , his only one
he could bear the coldness of poverty
with his creator light
he accepted to know himself
without being known
and I always in love with Jung……
A Beautiful Moment by Jordan Blake Crump
This frenzy of blood and tears
Her face, I have never seen such despair
As I was merely a cold body, just lying there
But in that moment, I no longer cared
For a peace of suddenness came over
A wonderful serenity, a sweet tranquility
I think and I feel, I therefore still am
Defying all that is known to man
I now look above, to see the endless entities
Where the heavens collide, so looming they seem to be
I wondered much of my time about these things
All so real, tangible and most divine
There is a presence, the stars are quick to disappear
The speed at which we move, light should fear
Behold, the Lord of hosts, the great Spirit, the most high God
My spirit is here a dying candle held to raging sun
From child to man, no deed was left undone
Here, the answers are, the knowledge complete
Here, the world but a shadow that cannot compare
I was born here and here I am most aware
My life now but a faint and distant dream
For here there are colors no man has ever seen
A transcending of time, for it is not of the human mind
What they say and show, the world does not know
Living, luminous things, much wonder, awesome harmony
A most high pleasure of warm amity
I wish, I wonder how, if I am here forever to be
My God! My God! Please never stop loving me!
In one thought, I see the entirety of time
It whistles before me, like a wind powered chime
An all-powerful Spirit of energy untold
Like lightning burning through a mirror of gold
Therein one feels the vibrations of omnipotent power
Living light in the purest form, burning white fire
This is what I see here with my very own sight
The Spirit and nothing but this blinding light!
My God! My Father! you are most High!
For it is love I know I see what is of thee!
I think back to that moment, just seconds gone by
My life, my wife, my love, I know now why
That I scream love forever across a land so high!
My dearest, my love, the rest of me
You need to know what I now see
Here in this beautiful moment, eternity
The Father and I in spiritual uniformity
Know this is so my life, my love, my whole
This is truly for nothing, but for you to know
"I CAN'T STOP ASKING WHY"
(c) 2006 TOMMYE RODRIGUES
IT'S COZY HERE BESIDE THE FIRE
WHERE I FEEL YOU ARE NEAR
WHERE THE SCENT OF YOU
STILL LINGERS IN THE AIR
AND MEMORIES OF YOU ARE EVERYWHERE
FRIENDS CALL OR STOP BY
EVERY NOW AND THEN
BUT ALMOST WITHOUT EXCEPTION
I PRETEND I'M NOT IN
IT SEEMS SINCE YOU'VE BEEN GONE
I JUST WANT TO BE ALONE
I SPEND HOURS AT THE WINDOW
STARING AT THE SKY
WATCHING WINTER CLOUDS
AS THEY GO RUSHING BY
BUT ALL THE WHILE I WATCH
I AM FOREVER ASKING "WHY?"
AND HEARING NO ANSWER
THOUGH IT SHAMES ME TO SAY
ALL I CAN DO IS CRY
I CRY LIKE A BABY EVERY DAY
I KNOW HE HAD A REASON
FOR TAKING YOU AWAY
A YEAR AGO THIS LONELY WINTER DAY
THE GRANDEST OF REASONS
SURELY COSMIC IN DESIGN
AND I ACCEPT HIS WILL BUT STILL
I CAN'T STOP ASKING "WHY?"
AND HEARING NO ANSWER
ALL I CAN DO IS CRY
SOMETIMES IT SEEMS I CRY ALL THE TIME
I WATCH A MILLION SNOWFLAKES
RUSHING TO THE GROUND
SILENCING ALL OUR NORMAL CITY SOUNDS
WHY THEN DO I HEAR CHURCH BELLS
RINGING LOUD AND CLEAR
WHEN THE NEAREST CHURCH TO US
LIES MILES AND MILES FROM HERE?
AND HOW CAN I SEE A RAINBOW
WHEN THERE ISN'T ANY RAIN?
STRANGE MYSTERIES LIKE THESE
NOW HAPPEN TIME AND TIME AGAIN
I HAVE ONE NEW FRIEND I AM HAPPY TO SAY
A LARGE YELLOW BUTTERFLY WHO VISITS ME EACH DAY
EVEN NOW, WITH SNOW STACKED ON THE GROUD
HE DOES HIS LITTLE DANCE FOR ME
WITH NO MUSIC, NOT A SOUND
"OH, HOW VERY AMAZING," I CAN HEAR YOU SAY
AND I SUDDENLY REALIZE THAT HE NEVER CAME
UNTIL YOU WENT AWAY
YES, SUDDENLY I RECOGNIZE
IN THESE SEEMING MYSTERIES
THE ANSWER I HAD BEGGED HIM FOR
AT LEAST A THOUSAND TIMES
THE ANSWER TO ALL OF MY "WHY'S"
YES, SUDDENLY I KNEW! I KNEW!
HOW COULD I NOT HAVE SEEN?
HE WAS SHOWING ME
THAT WHERE YOU ARE WITH HIM
I WILL SOMEDAY BE
AND I WILL FIND YOU WAITING THERE
PATIENTLY FOR ME
HIS SIGNS HAD BEEN PRESENT
EACH AND EVERY DAY
BUT BLINDED BY MY TEARS AND GRIEF
I SIMPLY COULDN'T SEE
AND THAT WAS HOW I CAME TO LOSE MY WAY
NOW I KNOW, I KNOW, WITHOUT A DOUBT
THAT YOU HAVE NOT LEFT ME FOREVER
YOU HAVE JUST GONE AWAY FOR A WHILE
AND I WILL JOIN YOU WHEN THE TIME IS RIGHT
AND KNOWING THIS, I CAN WAIT, YES, I CAN WAIT FOR THAT DAY
WHEN I WILL JOIN YOU IN GOD'S HEALING LIGHT
A CURIOUS INTERMISSION By NDEr
SO MUCH AM I COMPELLED TO SAY
‘ERE THE TURN OF A COLD MARKED DAY,
YET, WHY SHOULD I SAY ALL THIS
WHEN I’LL NOT CARE OF WHAT AFTER IS?
FOR I AS A CHILD, WAS ONCE THERE
LOOKING BACK AT ALL WITH JUST A STARE.
NO THOUGHTS, NO CRIES, NO HEART FELT PAIN,..
JUST A SILLY HUMANS GAME.
THE PREACHER, HE, JUST CLOSED THE BOOK
AND GAZED AT ME WITH A SOLEMN LOOK,
TEARS HE COULD NO LONGER HIDE
RAN DOWN HIS CHEEKS, AS I DIED.
WHY? THOUGHT I, DID THEY ALL CRY?
WERE THEY SORRY FOR MY LOSS OF LIFE?
OH, WELL. SAY’S I, TO ME, MYSELF
AS I FLOATED OUT T’WEEN WALL AND SHELF.
SO STRANGE, THINK I, SO CURIOUSLY,
AS I LOOK BACK AT THE SPIRIT ME,
NO QUESTIONS THEN, NO NEEDS YOU SEE,
WHEN YOU ENTER WHERE NO OTHERS BE.
UP INTO CEILING BETWEEN THE FLOORS
NO DOCTORS, NURSES, NOR CARES NO MORE.
I COULD SEE THE GIRDERS GRAY WITH DUST
ALL IN A DARKNESS THAT ONE COULD TRUST.
I TURNED AND KNEW A TUNNEL BLACK,
SHOULD I ENTER? OR, NOW TURN BACK?
ALIKE THE CORD I KNEW AT BIRTH,
QUITE HESITANT; A BIT, AT FIRST.
FEET FIRST I WENT THEN DOWN INSIDE
A WHOLE LOT LIKE A TUNNEL SLIDE,
DOWN ON DOWN I SLOWLY MOVED
AFLOAT INSIDE THE CENTER TUBE.
HANDS AND FEET AGAINST IT’S SIDES
I THOUGHT MIGHT STOP MY FLOATING GLIDE.
YET, STILL FASTER DID GO I,
NO FRICTION MET ON EITHER SIDE.
‘THOUGH ALL WAS DARK, NO SIGHTS THERE SEEN,
ALL FEAR OF PAIN WENT OUT OF ME.
MY TRAVERSE THEN SLOWED AND LEVELED OUT
A LIGHT WAS SEEN REMOVING DOUBT.
FOR THIS TUNNEL HAD AN END IN STORE
IT’S AT THE MIDDLE OF ALL LIFES’ CORE.
SO QUICKLY THEN I ENTERED SPACE
A LOVE LIGHT GLOWING AT A GENTLER PACE.
THE BRIGHTEST LIGHT WITH A GOLDEN HUE
WAS SURROUND ME THERE AND FILLED ME TOO.
SUSPENDED LIFE; A CONSCIENCE NEW,
JOINED ME THERE, JUST US TWO.
NO PONDERED QUESTIONS OF MY COURSE
FOR I WAS WITH ALL LIFE’S FORCE.
THE CENTER OF NO DIMENSION SHOWN
WAS ASKING ME OF ALL I’D KNOWN.
FIRST HE ASKED IN A TRANSFERRED THOUGHT
TO RECALL ALL SORROW FROM THE LIFE I’D LOST.
AND WE TWO SHARED FOR A MOMENT THEN
AS WOULD SECRETS PASS BETWEEN TWO FRIENDS.
THEN "LET IT GO" HE SAID TO ME
SO THAT HE COULD SHARE HIS INNER PEACE.
HIS LIGHT SURROUND, IT TURNED WARM GOLD
AS HIS LOVE FOR ME WAS THEN FULL SHOWN.
HE NEXT THEN ASKED TO RECALL ALL JOY
I HAD KNOWN ‘TIL THEN AS A LITTLE BOY.
A WARMTH OF CHILDHOOD MEMORIES DEAR,
FILLED ME SO TO BRING FORTH TEARS.
AT THIS HE SMILED WHILST I SHARED ALONE
FOR THIS HE SURELY, HAD ALWAYS KNOWN.
HIS NEXT PURE THOUGHT FROM HIM TO ME?
A BALANCE FOR THE WHOLE OF THEE.
AT THIS THOUGHT WE SHARED NO GLAD,
FOR THE BALANCE SHOWED SO MUCH MORE SAD.
OF LIFE? WELL, THEN, WHAT DO YOU THINK?
WAS THE LAST HE EVER ASKED YOU SEE.
NO ANSWER DID I HAVE JUST THEN,
SO, BACK TO LIFE, I WENT AGAIN.
HIS PARTING THOUGHTS, THEY CAME TO ME,
AND HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A MYSTERY,..
“YOUR LIFE’S NOT DONE, YOU’VE A PURPOSE STILL,
A MISSION YOU’RE ON, YOU’VE YET TO FILL.”
The secret's out - it's no use -
Emily Dickinson's no recluse!
She tells us how the sunset washes
The shores of the Yellow Sea,
Where it rose, and where it rushes;
Of railway trains that lap the miles
By shanties and mountain piles.
She writes of men on battlefields
Who drop like flakes and falling stars
In the dirt of the worst of wars.
The explanation can only be -
She floated out of her body,
We call it O B E.
10 SECONDS by Irene Z
10 seconds in a liquid black sea
I lay for this time, but what did I see?
No Angels, no light, no guiding hand
But the message I could return to my earthly land
1 December 2005
MY TRUE HOME by Andy Harley
Drawn into tangible
Rushing high speed through a tunnel.
I’m somewhere between two worlds
Spiraling like water through a funnel.
I see a pinpoint of light in the distance,
Growing larger the closer I get.
But for some strange reason I’m not afraid?
And see it not as being a threat.
Entering into a realm so soothing
Of radiant, golden-white light,
Peace and warmth pours over my spirit,
It’s so beautifully – beautifully bright.
Moving with the flow of fine silk,
My translucent body glows;
Like thousands of tiny diamonds
They sparkle and superimpose.
A floodgate of knowledge has been opened,
With infinite waves of love;
There’s a pageantry of dramatic colors here
That just could never be dreamed of?
I see miraculous mountains of deep blue velvet
And spectacular valleys galore;
A waterfall dazzles with clarity and life,
This Elysian area I’d love to explore!
Drifting next into a garden,
With swaying grass so crisp, cool, and green;
The luminescent flowers pulsate,
Their shades so completely serene;
I hear music playing of harmonic beauty
That rolls like a glassy river.
Enchanting, mystical tones,
That would make any man alive shiver.
Then suddenly, I see someone in the distance,
Coming towards me to reunite.
This whistling persons emanating glow,
Is such a comforting and glorious sight?
When I can finally distinguish who it is,
I realize it’s my Grandpap Jack.
He tells me that it’s not yet my time,
And that I must now . . . go back.
I could stay an eternity at this divine place
From just these few things that I’ve been shown;
But I know one great day for sure I’ll be back,
Because I believe this is my true home.
I was given the wonderful opportunity of having my book of 62 poems, Till The Dreaming’s Done: “Poems Crafted For Thinking People” (ISBN 1-4137-8232-9) published this year, and this is actually one of the poems that can be found in my book. Dreamingsdone@aol.com
Time by Paul Long
Like a river it flows forever
Changing worlds and men alike
A great city rots to ruins
A village becomes an empire
A fair king sires selfish heirs
Whilst a rogue begets a saint
Always changing, always flowing
Time is moving
A mountain crumbles into dust
A forest wastes away
A beach becomes an ocean floor
A river carves a canyon
Time turns heaven into hell
And the Styx into the Nile
An enemy becomes a friend
An ally turns to foe
Young love grows into devotion
A child’s dream to a life’s obsession
Life goes on
All things change
Like a river it flows forever
The towering pine trees became ever more stately,
thanks to a bounty of golden sunshine and gentle rain.
Pruning the old brittle limbs would make them seem shapely,
and the pinewoods could look healthy and trim once again.
Smelling the beauty of the pines from my perch up high,
I had a strange feeling that something possibly could go awry.
Those thoughts of uncertainly were casually brushed aside
as I felt secure for that one moment in the treetop I did reside.
It was dreary and sullen on that fateful day in August of 1998.
In the distant horizon was a northeasterly zephyr
blanketing the sky with a tinge of color the shade of slate
and for a brief moment, my tenure on earth became just a blur.
The breezes that blew were no longer so gentle
precipitating my fall to the ground as solely accidental.
While lying entwined with the branches I had just clipped
I screamed aloud for anyone whose hand I could grip.
A host of angels hovered over and greeted me
at a time when my body and soul were set to be free.
Visions of my family and friends glowed like bright lights,
as God's little attendants reached down to tug me off into flight.
A solitary guardian savior heard my hysteric and desperate pleas;
she opened up my eyes to the wonders I had yet to foresee.
Vowing my heart would be generous till my last dying gasp,
my divine messenger carefully released me from her grasp.
In some strange way my aborted journey to the hereafter
was for me an epiphany that encouraged me to envision
one’s lifetime should be reveled in and filled with laughter,
showing compassion to others would be my finest decision.
My renewed spirit has given me many precious blessings.
I’ve learned to love living with all its marvelous trimmings.
I thank that sacred being for asking me to dance,
suddenly, I knew the "Pureness of Life", Aware of all Goodness-never
having know strife.
I was taken through time, overthrowing it all; Heavens & Universes came crashing to a fall!!!
Religions, Governments; visible or not.....turned into ashes-in their sins did they rot.
Then did the Truth of all Pureness Within, fade non-existence all memory of sin.
True Life Eternal is meant for us all; And now you're award is to pass along THE CALL.