Damp leaves fallen everywhere Silently he who stands in prayer Somewhere ~ pondering, “Elsewhere? Could I have come from?” In despair, He looks thinking, “is this a nightmare?” Unrecognizing the odors and the auras Alone, by the park bench now worn Etched in wood were cursive initials Swollen wet wood had but erased them And there he stands, once debonaire Only now, merely a ghost carrying an umbrella The parallel alliance, the romantic bond Passed into independent realms Perhaps, time and measurements Will lock into the same grid But, until then, he just stands Silently pondering the else-wheres. Haunting the bench Amidst fallen wet leaves Stands a gentleman silhouette
****More than 400 women disguised themselves as men and fought in the Union and Confederate armies during the Civil War.
Rebel was her name in 1843
Long dark hair she wore braided in a bun
She roamed graveyards looking for her gun
She died on the battlefield, they thought she was a man
She fought for The South, her home, their lives
She fought not understanding why. The future
Was to set men free, but it was about money!
For God sake, carpetbaggers just stealing thieves!
They took, they stole, destroyed the way of life
And Rebel was getting even with that Union tribe
She never rested, after dying, as she tromped their graves.
It was about glory, about justice on The Southerners side.
Parasols and pinwheels of colorful rings
Walking the main street at a county fair
The lights bright with reds, whites and blues
The ferris wheel in other brilliant colorful hues
The smell of popcorn and corndogs permeate
They heighten the senses with the colorful hype
My heart beats fast when I hear people scream
In sheer delight, their fright gives me such a thrill
On the boardwalk, at midnight on Montego Bay
Transformation, shape-shifting, becoming an owl
She had advanced DNA for making a change
Eyes and mind come together to make image
Belief that she can creates the pattern
And simple will lifts her into flight
She can shape-shift
She is an owl in disguise
Man being God
Created beautiful; however, she is a machine
Made at nineteen within green collagen amines Born caesarean within fluid of compound proteins Merging quickly from the shell of a Pinto Bean hull Though she acted like a Mexican Jumping Bean birthing Grey plastic skin and human breath convened in her Dawning a skirt of crinoline looking as a closet queen Her weaponry: Nicotine, thiamine, and mescaline Like a spider she spins a labyrinth of fibrous webs Her energy is alluring like that of Mary Magdalene She uses the active matrix screen to capture any prey There is nothing about her that is serene, just spot keen She is man’s invention ~ playing God ~ how unforeseen She is obscene, a beautiful tartarine, smoke screen And lastly ~ she is impossible to destroy.
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It being the end of a another year, thus, I sent out to my god and my angels, a prayer. That is: I need change and a new directional path, and I need it, now. “Post haste,” as daddy use to say.So, having said this to a dear friend, who is also a warrior on the phone last night, and then, going to sleep soon, thereafter, was awakened, before 3 am. I had a series of nightmares.
There in the middle of the fury of dreams, I found my peace. My sister was with me to help me escape, as she always has, in our lives together.There, in the middle of of the nightmare, being raped and sought after by many men and devilish souls, I panted in fear. But we, my sister and I, locked, bolted and hammered all doors shut. However, I couldn’t escape from their war, except one way. I disconnected. I found within me the place of peace and in that place the outer world fades away and there I am safe from any harm. Though, i can not take anyone with me, I leave my sister warrior behind fighting for me. And, in that place, the hell on Earth and memories of it, dissipate. My sister is left to do the battling alone. She chooses to do this for me. I want to take her with me; however, she may not enter. She must find this place on her own just as every human soul must find it alone. Perhaps she knows about this quiet place amidst the beautiful scenery of anything desired. Maybe she is showing me the way. I don’t know her way, I only know my own.
You see, I found this place many years ago. I was 16 years old. I am 62 now. In that place I heard a friendly kind voice. I have heard the voice many times before. It gave me a message. He, the voice was male. He said. “write, from your heart. Write the truth and do not cover it up or make flowery excuses. Just simply write about, what you know, as truth. Don’t skip or jump around your truths, your path, your beginnings. Tell them about the other world. Tell others how to find it when in the middle of storms. Write it all down. This is what you’re called to teach.”
Now, I really didn’t want to get out of bed. It was warm and comfortable. And, I didn’t want to write about sadness and hardships. No, truthfully, it was before 3 am and I wanted to go back to bed and sleep peacefully.
“Now, get up and start writing what you’ve learned.” He said. This is your beginning of 2015.
I said, “all right, I will write only my truth, but the outer world is so painful.”
He nodded, in agreement, that the outer plane, which hovers Earth, is tortuous, grievous, grey, bleak, often harmful and lastly, painful for many and is not the place called heaven. “Help others and yourself to find this place. You have been there, and know the way. Teach it. It is easier to make jokes. Laughter hides pain and sorrow.It is in pain and sorrow that one becomes purified.” He smiled gently.
And so, I agreed to start writing my notes.
Though, they, my memories, will be discombobulated, they are my experiences. Finding Elysium, finding heaven on Earth, is not impossible. This is my 2015 plan sent by a messenger dressed in beautiful gauze and had a long beard of silver and snow and eyes as alive as the rapids in a northern river… This is what he told me to do. Having written the reasons of why I must tell my journey must say, I do not want to write this. I don’t want to visit my past, I do not want to blame, point fingers, to shame or harm anyone. For these reasons, I am reluctant to tell my story.
This reluctance is because the human race must point a finger at the causes of imperfections and tainted unlovely lives. Truthfully, the blame is circular. It never ends, but will find it’s origin in the story of the fall of mankind in The Garden of Eden. And, this is the truth, even if, you declare, it’s not your truth, it is. The fall of man was the beginning of pain and torture for the human/hybrid species. We were made in the image of god. We were created by fallen angels (The Nephilim) and god made a new way for us. Mankind excepted the dragons of fire, and there is no other argument. Done! There in the garden is found the reasons why mankind will never reach Narnia, Elysium, or Heaven, on his own.
I am not writing about the redemption story, though it is important. It only serves to receive the blame. If a reason why is to be asked, then, cast a blame on Eden with an imperfect finger of human judgement. The finger that’s pointing doesn’t recognize its own blemishes, sins and mistakes. It only see’s flaws in the “fruits” of others. How many times have I heard or read, “we can’t judge, but we can be fruit inspectors.” So, this statement stands alone, and is why, we will not reach Narnia.
Now, I’m dragging my feet. I don’t want to begin with my story. I’m afraid. The fears are from this Earth and have nothing to do with god, but mankind is harsh. Mankind is a ferocious judge. But on the other hand, who cares? Do I? Yes, bottom line, I care what others think or believe of me. I care about my reputation and the legend of my family. I care to uphold their name and honor. I care about them. I said, blaming is circular and goes back to The Garden of Eden, and it does. So, the sins of my ancestors continues and my children will point their finger at me, and tell of my sins and imperfections. But, I would be the first to admit, that I have failed horribly, as a mother. I have not loved unconditionally. I have put myself before my children, yet, I believe that I would die for them.
But, dying is much easier than living for them, isn’t it? After all, dying is escaping the tortures of living day in and day out. Excepting nighttime, thunder, lightening, hail, ice and temperatures too hot or too cold, are much harder, than taking the last breath into freedom. Wouldn’t you say? Perhaps, I am, blaming The Fall in The Garden of Eden, as well. But, this life is filled with spots, stains and imperfections are all around us.
No one escapes. It is here, at this point in my story, that I must be say, there are some who strongly declare, this doesn’t pertain to me. I am flawless. I do no wrong. I have a perfect past and a white picket fence, now, that surrounds my life. I would say to you, then, you already live in Narnia or Elysium and this story isn’t about you. My suggestion is to go on with your life, as it is, and don’t peer inside mine as the dragons assigned to me might become your own. Or perhaps, you’ve never actually met your demons. Because if you’re a member of the human race, then, at birth you had entities leading you away from The Garden. And, if you haven’t met the devils or been led far from the gates of The Garden, then, continue onward. Proceed on your path of doorknob hanging. Do not wander far away from the handle. But, hang on for your dear life and be thankful that you, know better. Or do you, I ask.. But on the other hand ~ playing The Devil’s Advocate ~ must tell you, find your war. Overcome it. Learn everything god wants you to know, so that, you will become a mighty valiant warrior. And having boldly said this, know that warriors die in many battles. Only to rise, again and again. Learning, along the way, the mistakes of war and the casualties of other’s lives, that we may have damaged, aware or not, these mistakes must be reconciled before continuing on in our wonderful journey called living. In some small way, if not, huge, our unintentional mistakes, completed along our way, may have destroyed someone else. In rectifying our mishaps, we become stronger and the next crisis, war or battle, which will come again, guaranteed, we will be stronger, more courageous than ever were before… And, then, perhaps, another warrior will be encouraged, while healing, from a battle of their own, and there on that battlefield we can lend our grace because grace was generously handed to us…
This is a good lesson, and I know god chooses the weak, to make them strong. He chooses the lame, deaf and dumb to confound the wise, he uses fearful men to make giant soldier’s, He uses our human frailties to make us his own. So, those who hang onto the doorknob of heaven, may I challenge you to jump into the fight. It is the fight, war, battle for your previous generations and those who succeed you throughout eternity.
Now, after skirting and dancing around my own story, I will to begin…. My heart races. Here I must deep breath and begin… Some of you might be asking me, what gives you the rights to say these things? The answer will be found in my story. Another question maybe, do you think of yourself better than the rest of us? And, truthfully, I tell you no, I don’t. Next question, then why should I read on? This is your decision, but I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.
The only answer right now, that I will reveal is the fact that I have been in solitary confinement at an early age. Later, I stayed, 2 more times in a place of complete aloneness for 6 weeks, more than once, and lesser times later. Now, That I’ve shared this part of my life, please, stay with my story, as I explain why and what came from those experiences.
I was reluctant to be born. The year and date: October 9, 1952, New Orleans, La, USA.In fact, I begged not to come. I recognized these thoughts were on my sons face as he entered the world December 12, 1983. He, too, didn’t want to enter this plane called Earth. My daughter, she too came May 23, 1980. She is another mighty knight.
Writing the beginning and knowing what is to come, is difficult, so at this point, I must rest, and gather my thoughts. Thank you for staying with me up to this point and reading. I do welcome any thoughts, questions and kind comments… Also, please note, I wrote this hastily. I wrote as the messenger told me to do. So, having said this, I realize there are grammatical errors, spelling mistakes, and other flaws. Please, feel free to contact me and let me know.. Thank you and have a happy, safe, peaceful, healthy and prosperous New Year 2015. May God reside with all…
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The path that I followed in the desert dissipated under my feet. Then, three old friends joined my side. Their names:
Faith, Hope and Love. They said, “we will escort you. Do not fear. God is with you in the forest deep and dark. Every man must go alone. You must trust.”
An entity named Trust, took the lead. I began the journey, following it.
The forest was dark and deep and the trees, like all forests, have dead trees that are equally as important which was shown to me. Vastness and the growth gathered together become one place called The Forest. Some trees are young, green and full with several shades of green and some are old and rotten. They serve as homes for the rabbits and raccoons. However, together the enormous group of all types of trees are synergistic and without the totality of the different types: old and young, light green and dark and thick and thin, the forest would not be complete. It seemed they all have a role. None are common, even though, some appear handsome, some grand and some quite irrelevant, all make for what I defined, as Eden. Despite their outward appearance, in totality, they represent the whole called the forest. In The Forest are life lessons.
This is when, I decide to wander into the jungle of trees, so dense. The trees and the thickets called me by name. They knew me. Whispering wisdoms and truths, I can’t resist their call nor the hypnotic beauty they have. I must wander inside. To some who live in the desert, the forest seems mysteriously evil and frightening. But I find it breathtaking, alluring and magnetic. I belong here inside this lushness and greenery. This has always been my home, my roots, my beginning. Again, I am a child that has returned to my origins. Simply, there is no other choice. The heat of the years in the desert caused me to wilt. The forest of lush green life will restore my soul.
The temperature dropped as the shade of the canopy of trees welcomed me back. The coolness of shadows and the humidity embraced my body. Comfortable now, as the parched desert took a toll on my skin. My face shown, in the cool spring water in which I peered, as leather. The sun did what it was suppose to do and cooked the human quest from me. The heat was the “refining fire” that The Bible, explains. Frailty and a withered reflection reflects from the gentle waving cool waters of the spring. I look at myself, in it’s mirror.
The tropical birds flew by my head! “Oh my!” I forgot about them and their array of colors. Greens to match the forest, oranges to show god’s revelations and blues to give inspiration. Smiling at the gift of colors, I moved forward through the limbs and undergrowth.
I came upon ~
The monkeys who did not trust me. So, they watched everything I did; my movements, my glances, my pausing and my nodding of hello to them. They, suspicious of my intentions, good or bad, would find out my purpose. This fact, I knew as they were the guardians of food and accommodation I greeted them honestly with a nod, “hello, I mean no harm.” They let me pass, for now. However, they did not offer me food. They ate the fruit which their many bodies protected. “Food will come later, maybe,” so, I hoped. I was hungry.
The flying creatures of the forest flitted contently from flower to flower, from creek to the water falls splash. Amazed, I stood watching. Delighting, in the beauty and coolness, which those in the desert, so feared. Bending down by the water’s edge, I cupped my hands and drank the fresh cool water. To my surprise, I drank with another animal. It shared. This was the rule of the forest. The rules were not written or displayed. But, the rules were understood within the heart of everything that lived. And, if the rules were not abided by, then, the creature was expelled to the desert with “the humans.“
The humans, I dare say with trembling fear, captured, enslaved, ate and killed them for sport. The humans were considered, the “demons.” The humans are to be feared. And I, a human, in their forest, recognized the fact, I am an intruder. But, they will allow me passage, for a while. I will have to prove my integrity as a creature of God’s. I knew this truth.
Needing a rest, I sat at the edge of a tree’s roots. Before falling soundly into a coma of sleep, I noticed the multi-colored green moss. It was damp, cold and sprung to new life. Small and delicate, the tiny leaves of multi greens invited me to observe it’s world. I looked harder, further, and magnified the mosses world in my imaginations. I saw another place, another home for strange odd life which was microscopic to human vision, but in the forest, I could see the tiny world as alive as my own. “Fascinating.” Much different than my own, but also, dynamic, I saw and watched their world. They moved in a simple method, But it was their own way. There doings was purposeful. They seemed happy, as far as I could tell… After all… I’m not the judge or giver of life.
Submerging then into a deep sleep ~
I’m aware though tired and almost comatosed, a man stands by my side as I sleep. He is familiar. He is a quiet male entity or being. Next to my lying body, he stands with dowsing sticks. I awaken and watch. His sticks circled around and around, then, rested pointing west. With a look to the west, his eyes said, “get up child,” then he pointed and said,. “this way is best.”
This time, I chose not to rebel. The last time I said, “No,” I was his teenage daughter. This time, I will listen. Though he a man of few words, he will show me the right direction. We will not make the same mistake. See, I learned that lesson. I take my nap sack and head west. The father image pointed to the direction that was best for my journey. He said, “you will be safe if you sojourn that way.“
Then, my next snore occurs. ~
There are several dimensions in the forest. This is only two; shown me. The ability to sleep and travel at the same time is possible. In the forest the hidden mysteries are revealed. Truths are given if asked. But, truths are experienced by walking through the forest. To know: is to journey here and face fear and beauty as a warrior princess. He says, “you can do it. Faith is with you. You must follow, Trust and Belief. They will accompany you, even if you return to the desert.”
My understanding that my father image reaffirms, which I already know in my heart, This is what I know:
It is also known that I may return to the desert at any time. The choice is mine. Not, any another’s. No one, makes another do anything. There is no one to blame, there is no control, that I don’t allow. Choices for good are granted with heavenly abodes. Choices for destruction are exiled to the desert. Some wander more than forty years. Forty years is the averaged time to learn life’s hardest lessons. There are familiar lessons passed down for generations. Those lessons last many years. They are the difficult ones. They end when the last student acknowledges the familiar lesson and what was learned by mistakes made. Apologize humbly for all wrong choices. Be a peacemaker. He or she leads the familiar lineage back into Eden. This is our mission if we choose.
Before, I leave Eden, a monkey comes with fruit in it’s hand and offers this to me. He says, mind to mind, telepathically, “here you will need this for your pilgrimage. Eden will be here when you want to return.”
I frantically reply, “Oh, I don’t want to go anywhere else. I want to stay here. Please. Father, Daddy, I am frightened to return to the parched land and dessert. Please, let me stay. “
My father image and the monkey stand together and with kind humility and honesty point the way to my right path. They say, "no, it’s not time. There is more knowledge to gain, more lessons for greater appreciation, more spiritual insight to achieve, You will return one day Until then, we are with you where ever you choose. “
They faded into the morning’s light peeking into my bedroom window. The sun’s light greeted me with, “hello..“
Author Notes Just another very real dream. Please, understand, this dream was symbolic and humans are not “demons.” This is not to be read literally. It is written from the animal kingdom. There are parts of my dream that become relevant and clearer as I write and meditate on the symbolic meaning.Â
Thank you for reading.
Thank you Deloralock at fanart review for your picture which shows the precious animals in the forest.
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My dear friend’s father passed forward last Sunday evening.
And, I knew him, but not real well. However, We were more than acquaintances
It is the dynamics of our two families made this so.
However, I knew the 97-year-old men had been fond of me throughout the 45 years, to be exact. So, saying all this let’s you know he cared about me and for this reason he visited me the night he died. And, it wasn’t a dream.
Soundly I slept. Deep deep in sleep when suddenly the bedroom shook and something also grabbed and forcefully shook my right arm.
The animals, 3 to be exact, sleep with me. One is a mighty watchdog and the big one is a huge watch dog. Neither one of them were startled or even flinched at the sound of KABOOM and the shaking of my arm. Neither dogs nor cat were slightly ruffled or disturbed, just me. On the second arm shaking, being firm and impressive, I arose from my slumber. From out of my bed, barely dressed, I walked down the dark hall into the den where one dim light was on. I looked around for to see what was so urgent. Nothing was there, by sight. But, the intense feelings and commanding, demanding energy was bigger than life. Non audibly, but internally it loudly said, “hi, I’m passing through. I’m in a hurry. I’ve got lots to do. But, I wanted to let you know that I am ( free, though not his word, but impression) going, traveling, moving about quickly. He was excited, boisterous, not sad, not in pains, but moving as though he was attending an event or happening and had little time (earth time, not heavenly) to prepare. He was still on earth time so, he had lots to do. He left quickly and in less dramatics than his coming. He exited through the corner of the room.
Last night, a few days after this event, there came one more visible event. While sitting on my sofa doing my computer notes for work a brilliant light caught my eye in another corner. I jumped as I thought the ceiling was catching fire with a silent blast. I quickly looked tbat way again giving all my attention to that area. There was absolute nothing there. GM was a dynamic man who was bigger than life. When he entered a room in his youthful days, you couldn’t miss him. He was a highly successful man and quite an artist. He always took center stage because this was his nature. Apparently, in the next life he has kept his bigger than life persona.
Well, this is my story of GM.
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