Ocean Song

Ocean Song

Just breathe.
Just breathe.
Listen.
And breathe.

The ocean and the sky
Touch.
Kiss.
Love.
To sing a song of healing
over you.

To sing.
Over humanity.
Healing waves
of Mercy.
Love.

The ocean is wise,
understanding
of human folly,
foolishness,
selfishness,
sin.
The ocean will heal us
if we let her.

But we must also
heal her.
We have polluted her patience,
treaded on her tenderness,
broken her bravery.

The whales,
keepers of the deep Mystery,
weep salty tears
over us.
Do we hear their cry?

When will we listen?
To the ocean?
To the whales?
To the song of time?

When will we breathe
and understand
healing
mercy?

Or will we let time
run out
on our planet?

Listen.
And breathe.

 

 

Image Credits: Pok_Rie.

Cloud Eyes

Cloud Eyes

Depression falls around me.
A streaming cascade of gray droplets clouding my eyes.

How will the mist rise
                                up
from the valley of hardship
and wisdom?

Clouds hide behind white orbs
and green crysalides.
My eyes
      wait
for wings of spirit
to fly
with clear sight
of heaven and earth.

Cataracts,
Surgery,
the Doctor says.
Thick black glasses
                    perching
on his white hawk nose.
Thin black pen
                    opinionating
on the white chart paper.
Slim black hand
                    ticking
on the white clock. read more

Cloud of Witnesses

Cloud of Witnesses

There are spiritual beings all around us. Although we can’t see them, they are cheering us on the journey, weeping when we weep, laughing when we laugh. They can bring us great healing, and joy if we learn to communicate with them.

The writer of Hebrews in the Bible tells us of a great cloud of witnesses, surrounding us and cheering us on to the finish line (Hebrews 12:1). These are people who have crossed the veil before us: our relatives, beloved friends, faithful saints and leaders of all religious and spiritual traditions who know the joys at the end. There are also crowds of angels and other spirit beings who may never have journeyed on this physical plane, but they encourage and help to guide the spiritual seekers on earth.

I grew up in a tradition in which it was “evil” to set up altars honoring the deceased or to talk to the dead at all. Generally, this is taboo in this hyper-scientific American (white, Protestant Christian) culture, where spiritual encounters are explained by physics or neuroscience, and children are discouraged from believing in imaginary friends. But I am seeing signs of hope with an increase in paranormal movies and psychic documentaries, with increased public conversation about life beyond the grave, and with the blossoming interest in spirituality and answers beyond the simple black-and-white, heaven-and-hell teachings of the church.

Cultural conversations with the cloud of witnesses

Many cultures around the world, even some American cultures, do embrace the spiritual and peek into the veil separating the seen from the unseen. The Japanese set up beautiful altars to honor their deceased. Mexicans celebrate and converse with their ancestors during Dia De Los Muertos. American Indians talk to the spirits and use soul retrieval to help the deceased to cross over. African-Americans share ghost stories and folk mythologies full of truth. Mystic Catholics pray to saints for guidance. All of these methods are ways to communicate with, and receive love and encouragement from, the cloud of witnesses. Of course, I am greatly generalizing here, and every person has an individual view of spirituality, but I am also exploring the big cultural ideas.

What does it mean to be encouraged by the cloud of witnesses?

Encouragement: take courage, find strength on the journey.

Sometimes the evils, hatred, and greed in this world cause me to tremble in fear and lose my grasp on happiness. But I have learned to talk to the unseen beings surrounding me. They tell me jokes and stories, remind me of my mission and destiny on earth, and help me to remember my home full of love on the other side.

As an empath, when I hear a story of someone abused or the innocent jailed and caged, I feel intense emotion, even to the point of physical sickness. Because of this, I can get too wrapped up in earthly concerns of justice and pain. My cloud of witnesses whispers to me and remind me that karma will always be fulfilled, and I can only change myself, and hopefully help to lift up a few people in my small corner of the world. I really hope that my writing can make some small difference. Ultimately, I cannot save or change a world that does not want to be changed.

Instead, I can focus on the reward, the homecoming at the end of my journey. My spiritual friends tell stories of wild, trippy dimensions of ultimate bliss and fun. They describe giant feasts of food more delectable than the grandest dinner on earth. They tell me about houses made out of light, and one giant community made out of love. That is a dream worth living for!

Namaste, friends. In the future, I will talk more about heaven, the cloud of witnesses, and the spectacular spirit beings I have met. For today, look inside. Listen to the whispers of your loved ones who have passed on. Embrace their joy and embrace the journey of light and love.

I Know Why the Willow Weeps

SONY DSC

This is an excerpt from a novel which I am currently writing, but I think it is timely to post this in light of the continuing destruction and strife which our country is facing under the government shutdown.

***

I know why the willow weeps.

The willow is a sensitive soul that sees all and carries all. More than all the other trees, she feels a burden for humanity and for the state of your earth. She does not fear her own destiny, but she fears the destiny of the human heart.

Once upon a time long ago, the willow stood tall and her branches reached toward the sky, like all of the other trees. She lived in the green garden with the Tree of Life. She gently watched over Creation as she soaked in the deep secrets. Dewy teardrops would sometimes gather on her leaves as she felt so grateful and overwhelmed by awe at Creation and the great Author of Life.

One foggy morning, when the mystic clouds hung low in the sky, an angel came to earth with an important announcement. “Today, the Sleepers will be woken,” she said, “and the gates will be opened between the spirit realm and the physical earth. The Creator has ordained that the Sleepers be given another chance to follow the path of love and harmony, the path of the Kingdom.”

All of the trees trembled in excitement at the chance for rebirth and redemption. But the willow knew that this plan was also very dangerous. She had studied about the Sleepers from the Tree of Knowledge and the Akashic records.

The Sleepers had once been awake. They were beautiful beings, crafted directly from the light and the breath of the Creator. They were made in the image of the highest spirits of the Counsel. Indeed they were the sons and daughters of the gods, and they were called the Lightons. Yet, they had turned away, too quickly away, from their noble birthright and followed the destructive paths of greed and pride. Instead of following the true Kingdom path of servanthood,love, and sharing all to the abundance of all, they had set up hierarchies and little kingdoms with little thrones of power. Their light grew ever dimmer in their quest for power and control.

Eventually their thrones reached to the heavens and upset the balance of the whole spiritual universe. Great raindrops fell from heaven as the Creator cried at what had become of those beings so lovingly created with the Creator’s own life-breath.The teardrops flooded the universe and put the Lightons into a deep sleep of millions of years.

Now the counsel had decided to grant the Lightons another chance. This time they would be placed in the earth realm and take on physical bodies to hide their light. The greatest peril, and also greatest gift of the journey, is that they would forget who they were. Their reset memories would allow them a clean slate to pursue once again the path of love and harmony for which they were created and which remained the greatest desire in their deep spiritual inner places.

The willow was the most prophetic of all the trees. Some said that she could see things even beyond the knowledge of the Tree of Life, but she would never claim this for herself. As she pondered the awakening of the sleeping Lightons, she looked forward through time. The images made her branches quake in fright.

She saw wars and bloodshed over land. She saw young ones starving in the cold of the night with no mother to protect them, and she saw old wise ones laughed at, stoned, and burned by their villages in a mockery of their knowledge. She saw buildings go up as steel thrones. She saw a system of bartering and sharing morph into a system of power traded in currency called “money”. She saw the spirits of the Lightons flicker and dim until they completely forgotten that they even had a spirit, and they abandoned the very breath of the Creator inside of them. She saw them trade the great secrets for the love of power and greed once again. She saw the whole earth shudder and eventually die under the great pollution of hatred and greed.

With each vision, her branches tipped a little lower to the ground. Soon all her branches were falling down in a posture of weeping which she has assumed for thousands of years.

Yet, the willow remains a tree of green. Here tears may not be in vain. Despite all the wars, bloodshed, and destruction of the sleepers, the human race, the willow knows that a small flicker of hope remains.

It begins here with you and me. Make a choice for healing, love, and kingdom living.

Sleeper awake!

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