Poem #18 - The Part of You That's True

Begin anew with pen in hand…

Forever is a long time
For those who view the world with limits.
Happy are we to share with thee
These truths.

You see such a small part
Of this great big world
There’s so much more beyond the sight

Before time began
Long before man
God had a plan
Then it began
Forests of trees
Birds and bees
Flowers, plants, and other treasures
Beauty beyond measure
Would He place into space
For His enjoyment.

So pretty these things
Pleasure they bring
But devoid of thoughts to share
Ideas to compare
And so he made a man
To execute the plan
To walk and talk and share
The beauty that was there

This man would have a heart
To play a major part
In all that would come
The work to be done
For nothing could God do
Without the love of you

For you are part of Him
You carry Him within
To witness all the treasures
Those pleasures that He made.

All the living things come from God
It’s not odd
To think that he is part of them
From the start of them
Not without, but within
The living, breathing organism
There’s no schism
In this thought

Think about it …

You ought to understand
Where you began
Inside of man
The part of you
That’s true
Is God
Living, breathing, loving you
It’s true

Say a prayer
If you dare
To God above
But know that love—
Your true nature
Starts inside
Don’t hide this gift
But give it to others
Your sisters and brothers
For all tread the same path
That takes them back
To the place they began
In the heart of man
Their home
Not alone
But one in spirit
Let all hear it ...

Find comfort in these words of wisdom

Bless you all
The kingdom lies within

Poem #17 - The Only Weapon We Need

I invited the spirits and immediately felt a new presence. I asked, “Are you new?” and my head bobbed up and down in a resounding “yes.” I feel it was a male, and he experimented with my energy for a few minutes, moving my head back and forth, up and down, and around, then let me know to pick up the pen. Right away I felt the difference … a prayer …

Today we pray anew.

Oh God, help the world to see
That peace and harmony
Are gifts given
Eyes blinded cannot see
Your majesty.

Awaken those who lie without sight
Filled with might
That cometh not from thee.
For thine is true and mighty love
That comes from above
Showers down like raindrops
To the ground.
There under foot we look
Where we do tread
And make our bed
Never knowing you are there
Everywhere.

Oh, Lord, how great and mighty is your sword
A blade of glory
It’s a story
Of truth.
No knights in armor come to fight
For what is right
But ride a wave of tolerance
Forgiveness,
Strength
To what length
Will they go
To show
That love’s the only weapon we do need
These our words must all men heed
If peace will come to these shores.
Fight no more
Love one another
Sister and brother
Cherish the treasure
Love without measure abounds
If only man would look
Forsake the mighty sword
Turn toward the Lord
Search no more
Settle the score
Stop the war and hatred.
Life is sacred.
This we pray each day.
Amen.

Poem #16 - The Summerland Awaits

Contrary to what you know
Things in heaven do not grow
They just appear
From far and near.

For it’s a world of thought
Sturdy things have we not.
But love it grows
Its face it shows
In every spirit’s eyes
It comes as a surprise
To those who arrive
To find they’re still alive.

Quite so!
You should know
That life’s forever after
Like the fairy tales you read
Happily we lead
You to these truths.

The Summerland they call it
For every day is bright and warm
And full of flowers
And all aware are they
Of God’s great powers

For it swirls around us from above
It’s pure, sweet love
That all can feel …
It’s real!
You can touch it if you like
Just go inside
There’s nowhere it can hide
That you can’t find it.

Love permeates all, here and there
If you would only dare
To hunt and seek
Take a peek
No need to wait
For your fate
The Summerland awaits.

But first live while you can
Your role in God’s plan
Learning to love
Learning to serve
All will come to you
When it’s due.

The greatest trials are here
You’ll find the worth
Here on earth
Then rise
To realize
The prize
You’ve earned
From lessons you’ve learned.

***
The poem ended here. I still felt the connection, so I decided to try to find out the answers to some questions I have. Highlighted words are mine that I wrote on the paper (eyes still closed). Italics are the answers that came to me (still in rhyme!)

Are you Silver Birch?

We bring you greetings from the one who called himself thus.
But it is us
Who carry on his work.


What names can I call you?

The Council … of Poets. (I immediately thought, Huh! I like it!)
Yes, it is good
To know it. (I felt laughter and laughed, too, at their rhyme)


How many are you?

Many are we in number
Ne’er to slumber
For the work that’s planned
To bring to man
These messages of hope.


Why are the words the same as the book? (Three times now I’ve come across unusual wording from the poems in the Silver Birch books AFTER the poems are written – words I never would have used myself, ex: “never fear the morrow”, “baubles”, and “fog of the mind”)

We know what lies ahead
We take a look
Inside your book
The self-same truths we bring to you
In this our way
We say it, too
Read on – it’s good
These words to know
There’s far more yet,
A long way to go.
We’ll leave you not.
Come back and sit
There’s plenty more
No lack of wit.

We thank you for your time
We’re glad you like the rhyme
And we are all well pleased with you
With this, the sacred work you do.

(I catch myself thinking, “Am I really getting this from spirits?” and immediately hear:)

Yes, we’re here
Through day and night
With us nearby
No need for fright
We will protect you
Hold you close
Rest well,
You’re safe.
Adios.

(Definitely no lack of wit!)

Poem #15 - Fog of the Mind

#15. 28JUL09

Fog of the mind
Mist on the water
Clutter the thoughts…

Hereafter are you safe
Benign’s the place
Where time
Unwinds
In our minds

Forever ...
So long it seems to you
A blink of an eye for us.

Time has no constraints
Here among the saints
Those who’ve gone before
Crossed through the door
To the other side.

It’s all around you,
Our world of mist
But to you it’s unseen
Spaces in between
Real as can be
To we
Who live here.

Harmony is the key
To living with divinity
Likeness of mind
All in spirit are one --
No body, yet real
Still we feel
Emotions … laughter…
Forever after.

It’s a world much like your own
Not carved of stone
But forged with thought
Hard it’s not.

Sweet as the song
Eternal life is yours
With nothing to prove
No sins to remove
All will come
When day is done.

And all will rise
Toward the skies
To keep on learning
Yearning
For God’s presence to find
Yes, in the mind
But also in the heart.
It’s all a part
Of the plan
That began
Before man
And continues with you
And all the living things
That Spirit brings
To life.

Poem #14 - The Play of Life

#14. 27JUL09

Delve into realms of heaven on earth
You’ve known them from your birth
They start in infancy and set the stage
As you age.

Barefoot you toddle
Step and waddle
Slowly you grow
And then you know
That all the world’s a stage

Here on earth
Not a day goes by
That you don’t have the chance
To truly live before you die.

What do we mean?
What’s the hidden theme?
Waste not your moments in each scene
Of this, the play of life.

Actors are you all, you see
Bit parts before your destiny
Of greater importance for you all
Is after the curtain it does fall

Prepare.
Learn your lines well.
Time will tell
Who will be a star
Rise from afar.

There lies victory
For humanity
On the greatest stage of all.
Mankind
Has yet to find
The answers in the dirt
Here upon the earth

Rehearse.
Live now your role as angels
Saviors of each other
Your sister and your brother
This your greatest role
Lies deep within your soul

Waiting to awaken
Beauty not forsaken
Serve each other well
Time will tell
Who wins the prize
Of the skies.

Arise.

Poem #13 - The Role of a Lifetiime

Friends … lovers … and many others
These our words should heed
In times of need …

Care not for things of value
Money, silver, power…
These come and go
As you know
They all turn sour.

Carve a line
Cut it fine
Resist the call
Of all
That shines

Nothing lasts for long
In this world of matter
All will end in tatters

Like a bush with thorns,
Cuts draw blood
Prick the skin
So thin
Look within
No wounds can reach
The glories of the mind

Flutter, flutter like the
Butterfly whose wings flap so softly
Like the touch of grace
Upon your face
Soft as gossamer
Strands of a web the spider spins
To catch its prey
It’s all a play
And we the actors
Day by day
Do act it out
Dance and shout
Speak our lines
The way we live our life defines
The next step along the way.
Better stay
Get it right
Day and night

The role of a lifetime.

Poem #12 - Disease of the Mind

I write: “Many twitches in left hand today.” (unusual, it’s usually the right) I immediately hear: Different man

#12. 25JUL09

Disease of the mind
Comes from thoughts not in tune.
Beware when there inside
From love you hide.

Gone are the days
When through the haze
We look and seek to find
The truths inside the mind.

But look inside the heart
Never far apart
Here it’s clear:
Seek and ye shall find
Delights beyond the mind.

Create a place
A quiet space
Sit and listen
There it waits
Anticipates
Fabricates the thoughts
You think they’re yours
But they’re not

These, the messages come from afar
Where we are
But oh so near
We whisper in your ear

If only you would stop
And take the time
All the beauty that is Mine
Will come to you
It’s your due.

It’s never too late
When this is your fate
To learn of things divine
You’ll come to us in time

For now, be sure of this
Nothing short of bliss
Awaits those who come
And sit
This is it--
The secret key
To harmony.

Poem #11 - The Purpose of This Game Called Life

A whole different feeling today with a very clear, simple message...

Children on a sleigh
Slip and slide and play
Free to run and say
“I love the day!”

But as we age
Says the sage
More we come to know
We’ve a long way to go.

Life is but a game
Every day the same
With rules
We learn in schools

Learn your lessons well
Only time will tell
Who wins and loses
By the paths he chooses.

Study hard
Learn your lessons well
Hear the bell …
It’s time to go
And then you’ll know

If you have learned -
Your time not spurned
But made the most
Of this-
Your chance to get to bliss

It’s very simple, life
When you understand:
Give a lending hand
Help your fellow man
Serve each other well.

The greatest things you do
Are not the things for you
But those that bring help to others
These your fellow brothers.
Before they ring the bell.

Poem #10 - Why are Children Hurt by Others?

A friend wondered if I could ask the spirit world a question today. They'd told me that they would give me the words I needed to know, yet I felt compelled to ask my friend's question so I asked it: "Why are children abused - sexually, physically? They have no say in the matter and they are the innocent?" The following are the words that came to me as soon as I entered the light meditative state, eyes closed, as always, a steady flow with no changes, in just a few minutes time...

#10 23JUL09

Little trikes
Small bikes
Toys
For girls and boys…

Small things
Balls and rings
Songs and games and joys
Of childhood
Gone in an instant
Destroyed by sin within the man

His will he uses freely
And in this expression
There’s a lesson
For us all…
If you fall
The curse is yours to bear
Not theirs-
The children
Little tots
Know not
Good from evil.

Who’s the wiser?
Sympathizers say it’s all a plan
The will of man..
But who will pay the price
For man’s vice?

We have our lessons
They’re hard to take
Each our path
It’s turns must make.

Along the way we stumble
Tumble
Skin our knees
Aim to please
Yet inside the hurt
It grows and burns
Twists and turns
Until the truth
Does settle in …
That all the truth it lies within

The lessons of this life
Are born from strife
It matters not how they come
But how they’re won
When day is done

We’ve grown
Alone, we think
But there you’re wrong
You’ve been accompanied all along
Carried through the pain
Never to remain
But to gain
From every strain

An inch … a foot …
A steady climb to peace
Release.
Fear not –
It comes to those who wait.
Your fate
Rests with me
It’s destiny.

Have faith
It’s never too late
To awake.
Just wait.
You’ll see.
Your history is clear to me.

It’s destiny to bring you home
Not alone
But held within my arms
Safe from harm.

The Spirit World Comes Through

Today the spirit world came through in a big way – for a new friend of mine named Lola. They came through during a reading with a medium who is one of the very best by far (in my humble opinion), and gave Lola the much needed evidence that her loved ones who recently passed over are still very much around.

If you want to know the truth, I think the spirit world set Lola and me up. There I was in Burke, VA, last month killing time before doing a radio show to promote my book, The Priest and the Medium. I was due to have an important interview in person the next day, so I figured I’d splurge and get my nails done. I was about to enter the nail salon when I heard a little voice in my head say, “Why don’t you go wander around Walmart?” My reaction was, “But I don’t need anything at Walmart!” The feeling was insistent, so darned if I didn’t go and wander aimlessly around Walmart. I emerged empty handed ten minutes later and went back to the nail salon. I ended up seated next to Lola, who I had never met. Something made me strike up a conversation with her, and we got to talking about my book and about mediumship. I’m actually a bit of an introvert. I don’t go around chatting up every person I meet, yet for some reason I felt compelled to speak with this friendly-looking woman. I even admitted to her that I was a “baby medium” – something I rarely tell people. Lola seemed interested in the subject, so I gave her my card and recommended that she read some of the essays on my website.

A few days later I received an email from Lola. It seems that our meeting and my website was exactly what she needed that day. It turns out that within the past 6 months she had lost her mother very unexpectedly as well as her son-in-law, who died within two months of being diagnosed with cancer. My goodness. I had no idea, yet something had drawn the two of us together. I realized then that if I hadn’t heeded the voice that told me to wander around Walmart, I wouldn’t have ended up next to Lola, for someone else had been in my seat. Lola told me that she had been fighting grief and depression for months due to the two back-to-back deaths of two people she loved very much. She had decided just that morning to take better care of herself …

I knew instantly that Lola was meant to connect with her mother and son-in-law and I knew just how to bring them together: with a reading with my friend, Janet Nohavec. If anyone was going to help Lola to know that her loved ones were still around, it was Janet. I recently finished writing Janet’s life story for her: Janet is a former Catholic nun, and is now the pastor of The Journey Within – a Spiritualist church in Pompton Lakes, New Jersey. Janet is trained in the British method, which focuses on evidential mediumship, meaning, she may not be able to PROVE the continuity of life, but she can give you an overwhelming body of evidence to leave no doubt in your mind that she was communicating with your loved ones on the other side.
Janet is so good that she has a waiting list of over a year. I’d never done this before, but I called her and asked her to squeeze a friend of mine in as soon as she could. I didn’t give her any details, other than to say it was a friend who had suffered some tragedy. Janet agreed, and THEN I went back to Lola and told her what I’d done. Happily for all involved, Lola was excited about the idea of a reading and agreed to set it up. I stepped back then and left the rest up to her. I didn’t want to know anything about her family members – their names, how they’d died … nothing! The evidence had to come from Janet.

Well, Lola had her reading with Janet this morning. It’s been on my calendar since Lola set it up with Janet’s assistant a month ago. Now, I have talked to Janet many times in the past month, but I never again mentioned Lola. This morning, however, it was all I could do not to call Janet and tell her to drink an extra cup of Starbucks so she’d be on top of her game, but I knew it wouldn’t be fair to put pressure on her. It didn’t help to get an email from Lola telling me that her entire family had been teasing her about resting her hopes on a medium. Her husband and son were sure she was going to be scammed. Her step-daughter was still grieving too much to pin her hopes on the outcome. So I was probably as nervous as Lola, but I forced myself to relax. After all, Janet is a pro, and this whole thing was out of our hands, anyway. I reminded myself that all I had to do was sit back and trust that the spirit world wouldn’t let us down.

And they sure didn’t.

Lola’s reading with Janet was by telephone. I knew that would make no difference for Janet as she tuned into the spirit world’s energy. I recommended that Lola find some way to record the conversation, and it’s a good thing she did. I’d learned from experience that Janet gives you the fire hose approach in her readings – flooding you with a deluge of details that leave your head spinning. There’s no way you can write down fast enough all the jaw-dropping facts that she has no way of knowing. You can google a person’s name all you want and never come up with the kind of personal evidence the spirit world gives to Janet.

Right away Janet brought through the very two people Lola wanted to hear from: her mother, who Janet claimed had died suddenly (she had) and a younger man who died from cancer (he did). Janet heard the name John, or Joseph. Lola’s son-in-law was, in fact, Jose. Janet saw boots and knew that indicated a military background. Jose had retired from 20 years in the Army. That’s all great, but it gets even better: Jose showed Janet a woman with dirty-blonde hair and called her by name. It was Lola’s step-daughter, and her name was not Jane, or Mary, believe me – it was an unusual name (I’m not mentioning it here for privacy’s sake), yet Janet got it spot-on. Why? Because Jose had a message for his grieving wife: “Tell her I miss her and I love her very much.”

Janet went on to flood Lola with a whole bunch of other great details such as the fact that Jose liked dancing and had given Lola a special flower when she was sad about his sickness (she planted that flower in the back yard). She talked about all the knick-knacks Lola’s mother had (the ones Lola had to dust all the time) and passed along her mother’s apology for being critical (she had been critical, but none of that matters anymore). Janet even brought through Lola’s dad who’d died when she was two years old. Janet didn’t know that, yet she passed along his apology for not being around as she was growing up. Was he a teacher? Janet asked. He sure was.

This is all great, but hang onto your socks, I saved the best for last: Janet asked Lola: Do you have a granddaughter? Yes, she does. Well, Jose wanted to thank her granddaughter for the poem she wrote and for the roses they all put at his grave. As it turns out, Lola and her family, including her granddaughter, went to Jose’s grave at Arlington Cemetery just this past Sunday, where they placed some roses, and yes, Lola’s granddaughter wrote a poem and placed it there as well.

This is what I love about the message of Spiritualism and mediumship: that our loved ones not only do not ever leave us, but they are right here with us still, watching us and reading our poems. They’re there with us as we grieve for them, wanting so much for us to know that they’re still around and love us just as much as they ever did.

The best part of a reading with Janet is that you know that she's not pulling random facts from the ether ... she's actually talking with these folks in spirit. If Lola had been in the room with Janet, she would have seen her tilt her head and ask her mother, father, and son-in-law to, "Give that to me again" if the message was just a little bit unclear.

I don’t know how Lola’s family will react when they hear the recording of her reading with Janet. There’s always a chance that they might hear those incredible details and still poke holes in them. We’re all at different steps along the path of our understanding of this life, and that’s okay. But hopefully Janet’s words and the messages she brought through today in such a beautiful, evidential way will allow their hearts and minds to open just enough to find the comfort that’s waiting on the other side for all of us. I know that today Lola found the comfort she was seeking, and I couldn’t be happier for her. Thank you Janet. Thank you Jose, and Lola’s mom and dad.

And thank you, Lola, for keeping the faith.

The Ninth Poem - The Beauty Inside Us

I meditated early today before a full day of motoring in light winds. Had to connect with these wonderful spirits before starting the loud engine for the next 6 hours. I entered the blessed silence right away. The feeling of peace is addictive. Today I felt my eyelids fluttering (closed eyes, as always) as I wrote. At times I could hardly write fast enough. I set the notebook on the salon table without looking at it and joined Ty in the cockpit to get underway. I looked at him and said, "The really neat part is, I have no idea what I just wrote! It's something about God being inside (again)." After we cleared the narrow channel, Ty took the helm and I went below to transcribe the words - so anxious to see what they'd said... Once again - so beautiful. I am awed.

#9. 22JUL09

Escape the bonds of prison.
There lies within
Treasure
Beyond measure.

Sever earthly ties and lies
Higher forces are at work here
Put it down on paper, Dear.

Count your days not on earth
The many months and years since birth
What matters is the way you spend them
Do you fix and mend them
With your thoughts?

Hark! ‘Tis but a whisper
Air so fine –
The heart divine
So fine a time is this
To contemplate what’s Mine.
Shine
With all the luster
You can muster
Keep the watch.

Here, inside
Lies beauty beyond compare
Seek it if you dare
For true joy lies not in things
Which money brings
But in the beauty of the heart and mind.

It’s a message that never ends.
How many ways can we say the same words?
Always to come back to love and truth
For these are things that have no proof
Yet always ring out
Like bells that chime
High on a roof
Heard by many from afar
Never quite sure where they are
But happy just to hear the sound
That brings them ‘round
To know the glow
The heart’s afire
With desire
For this -the bliss
Of God’s sweet kiss.

We sigh.
Goodbye.
We’ll come again
For we cannot stand by for long
Without a song
To share with you, our children
Who come to hear
That God is near.
The same. The same.
Why change?
When this is what you had to hear…
I’m near. I’m here.
It’s clear.

* * * * *

(I ask: “Who are you?”) All one. Our work has just begun.

(“Can you tell me your names?”) What difference does a name make? We’re all the same.

The Eighth Poem - No Need for Fighting

Last night I met with Nancy Gratta, the woman who predicted this whole new way of communication for me. She confirmed what I've been sensing - that there's a whole group coming through, as evidenced by the different styles and messages each time. Today is a perfect case in point ...

#8. 21JUL09

Write
Take flight
At night the dark gives fright
But know
We go
To sleep to rest
But short of height
We stop and wait for fate
To call
And fall
Like drops of rain
But heed our warning
In the morning
Comes the truth
Wait
Contemplate your fate
Forget the mass of men
Who march in lines of ten
Their way brings no release
No peace
Shallow graves hold bones
Remains
No gains are made with guns
You’re the ones
Who fight and quarrel
Without sorrow for tomorrow
But if two would stop and see
That love’s the way to harmony
Gone would be the need to fight
For what you think is right
War no more
No score
Just love
Hawk or dove
There’s no choice
Rejoice
One’s the way
Just pray
Today, I say
Be gay
And dance
Instead of shooting
Looting
Taking what belongs to others
Be ye brothers
All the same
This is no game
Know these truths
There’s little time
Step in line
Be mine

Thoughts About the Poems

While cleaning out my tote bag last night after a very special day with the Open Doors Classroom group, I came across notes I’d written the week before at the Angels by the Sea book store. If you haven’t read about the message given to me that night by store owner Nancy Gratta, please see the first post entitled, “The Poetry Begins.” I had forgotten that I’d written some of the words Nancy said as she was telling me what the spirits had told her during my presentation. Nancy had said, “They’re going to continue to give you such proof.” (They certainly are.) and “Your life is of service … this is a new way.” (It certainly is!)
I shared the poems with Michael Tymn, author of The Articulate Dead (an excellent book that examines several of the best mediums of yesteryear and the scientific research surrounding them). Michael is the vice president of the Academy of Spirituality and Paranormal Studies. He found the poems interesting and intriguing and thanked me for “coming out of the closet” (as a medium). (My friend Janis said that her “outing” felt kind of funny at first, so she made a joke about it, that “she used to be a small, but now she’s a medium”!) I needed that.

Mike referred me to an encyclopedic article he wrote about automatic writing (http://redpill.dailygrail.com/wiki/Automatic_writing). Here’s a quote from Mike’s article: “Automatic writing differs from direct writing and inspirational writing. In the direct writing phenomenon, the writing instrument moves without any human touching it.” (That is NOT happening with me. I am most definitely moving the pen). “Inspirational writing involves a somewhat passive state in which the writer supposedly collaborates, knowingly or unknowingly, with an advanced spirit entity in delivering enlightened messages or essays. There appears to be considerable overlap between automatic writing and inspirational writing.

I don’t know what this is … I am definitely in a passive, yet receptive state. My eyes are closed. I feel the spirits’ energy blend with me. I am aware of their distinct presence, male and female, and when it switches. My finger begins to twitch and dance before I pick up the pen. My facial muscles twitch and I “feel” the way these spirits looked. Then I ask them to give me a poem and I wait. Within seconds I hear a word clairaudiently. I write it down. Then the words come one after another. This is no different than when I’ve given my first tentative readings and I’ve heard messages for my sitters. The words are very subtle – hardly different than my own thoughts, yet somehow I know they’re not mine. With the poems, I deliberately keep my rational mind out of it and simply record what I’m hearing without interpretation. After I write two or three words I’ve already forgotten them as I place my focus on receiving the next words.

It is very obvious to me when the spirit is finished “dictating.” The presence withdraws and there’s almost an empty feeling. I set my pen down and return to a normal waking state. Then I take my notes to my laptop and type up what is on the pages. Every time I have been surprised and awed at what I see on the screen before me.

The Seventh Poem - Nothing Lasts for Long

Open the door
Step right through
All the world is waiting for you.

Time is the same as memory
Hidden there, where none can see ...
Pieces of a puzzle, small bits of string,
Odds and ends of things …
Baubles, jewels, the stuff of life
Matter little.

Place your eyes upon the skies
Aloft
Where there you’ll find
Respite from cares and worries, rush and bother
Rest a moment with the Father.

Rest now for I will send
The signs of death
Which most fear
Yet know not that here
Is where they grow to know
That all is one
When day is done.

Count your pennies
Watch them grow
Then melt away like heated snow
Nothing lasts for long
It’s like a song
That’s here …
Only to disappear.

But lo! The soul!
Death touches not the spot inside
Where God abides,
Survives. Strives. Alive.

The Sixth Poem - Two Can Be the Same as Three

Today I paused to meditate shortly in the car before going inside to give my presentation for the Open Doors Classroom in Quincy, MA. I didn’t expect to receive a poem because I felt a bit rushed. My brain settled right down and I felt the unmistakable lightness and presence of spirit. When my finger started twitching, I was glad I had pen and paper nearby. Reading it later as I typed it, I found it strange that the poem started with “post it here” – considering that I now intend to post these poems on my blog. As always, there are discrepancies, odd word choices, and lines that don’t rhyme (that’s my type-A personality wanting everything to be perfect), but considering the source and the method of receiving this information, I guess that’s okay… ;-)


Post it here for all to see
These our words of liberty
Here’s the message of the day
Hear the words I have to say.

Fly away on wings of gold
Take the leap, fly high, be bold.
Soar… the hawk does circle high
His path above the mighty sky.

Two can be the same as three
When all the power they rest in me.
For I will give them strength and courage
With my wings they’ll not discourage.

Hope rests in the heart
Here is where you start.
Try. Fly. Stand by…
Your thoughts alone will not get by

Forsake the proud and mighty ego
It knows not how or when do we go
Up towards the heavens with the words like birds
We fly and try, ne’er to die.

So long as air doth lift our wing
We sing the sweet words and beauty bring
To all who long to be set free
From earthly bonds which limit thee.

Soar high, soar low
There’s miles to go.
But you will have true faith and glory
When you listen to the story.

It’s a tale of love
That does not stop with pain
But with His name
With love upon the lips of all who speak of kindness, truth, and light.


Thanks to Vicki, Bob, and the wonderful people at the Open Doors Classroom for your kindness today and your openness when I shared the first five poems. More to follow … with love.

The Fifth Poem - The Sins of Man

This session had a totally different feel. I sensed a female spirit at first, then I experienced a very clear shift in energy as a male presence that felt very much like a Native American blended with my energy. The words I heard next left no doubt that this was a whole new message. An interpretation from my good friend Lois Anne follows the poem. What's your take?

#5: 16JUL09

Torture, murder, terror, hurt
Betray the love.
Doubt … mistrust … hate are signs
… these come not from above.

The sins of man break bonds
In place since before time began.
These, the mighty tricks of man.

Who knows the answer to the challenge?

Listen.
It comes on winds that blow
So softly you don’t know
They carry signals like the smoke of fires set to tell a story.

Listen.
Whispers like drifting ashes that settle and coat the earth.
But no one stops to wipe the film of dirt and grime
That over time become a stain upon His name.

The tragedy is not the death or squalor.
Not the men who holler,
But the child who lies and cries without a bed to lie and rest
His weary soul and become whole.

The story ends here in the manger.
Who’s the stranger lost along the path with no one there to
Take his hand and offer solace?
This great world is none the wiser,
For the mystery of the land is why the sand drifts here and there
Without a care, yet man his soul can never find without his mind.
It’s there, divine. Sublime.

In time you’ll know the truth.

* * *

An interpretation from my friend, Lois Anne (an English teacher): Wow, Suzanne...Bringing my experience within the "organized church" to this piece, I can't help but see the religious wars within denominations and those between races and countries as "not from above" and "betraying the love." There are basic laws of the universe and the spirit world that man continues to break...even while calling himself "religious."I like the imagery of the "smoke of fires" and "the drifting ashes" which seem to show how easily evil and broken bonds become the "norm" for our world and even the church. Amazing that we can watch the violence of murder and rape on television news and not even cry. Was this always possible? But the real tragedy is the "lost soul" seeking for truth...maybe even within a church or synagogue or mosque...and the truth is never found because he/she has to use his mind to find the soul within. Most often, the creeds and rules of a person's faith will not allow for questions or seeking or thinking. I see the manger as a symbol of the poverty in our world and the struggles and difficulties of our world (which it is biblically, too)...poverty of spirit, too, maybe? The tragedy isn't in the preachers, ministers, wars...but in the person lost and trying to find his way in this world...trying to find peace for his soul. So the manger is also a symbol of comfort maybe? "The story ends here in the manger"...finally, a place to seek refuge? The person "lost along the road with no one to offer solace" is everyman to me or those seeking for "something more."The message of the poem to me is clear.

There are many people here on earth who need to hear your message from the world of spirit...the message that we are all connected...the message of "oneness," and the message of acceptance of many paths to the same God. I see the differing religions as "the stain upon His name" so people turn to atheism with no hope of an afterlife. But...there is hope and "In time you'll know the truth."This is a powerful piece, Suzanne. The beauty of poetry is that it speaks in different ways to different people through its imagery. And much of the Bible is written in verse and poetry. :)

The Fourth Poem - The Answer to the Riddle

Father, mother, all are we in harmony. We seek to find receptive minds to share …

The light that blinds my eyes
It comes not from the skies
‘Tis but a glimpse of love’s great force
That ‘ere the mighty winds that blow
Across the desert with a purpose none can know
‘Til eyes they open wide.
There it’s hiding deep inside
The answer to the riddle: why?

Lo the mighty ocean’s wave
It comes, it goes, it carries on
Forever moving,
Yet it knows that deep within
It’s all the same.

Be brave,
Keep rolling like the wave
Onward, onward t’ward the shore
For there is life forever more.

Blinding light …I close my eyes
Bit still I see its rays
That warm my face and calm my soul
On oh the darkest days.

This light that burns within my soulI tire from its heat
But here’s the message in the light
Go on, live strong, don’t weep.

For all the lessons you will find
The greatest one is this:
God’s great beauty lies within
‘Tis nothing short of bliss.

Oh Greatness, lead me t’ward the sun
I need your light, your strength.
The soul is soft, my body weak
In you I fly great lengths.

The beauty that’s inside of you
Has nothing to compare
For never will a sparrow fall
That God’s not there to care.

The Third Poem - The Divinity of the Soul

This, in my opinion, is the most beautiful poem so far. The rhythm and rhyming and the overall feel is totally different. The process of receiving the words was the same (see the entry: "The Poetry Begins")

Please feel free to leave your comments and interpretations.

14JUL09

Foremost in our minds we share the words…
Every tree that grows is sacred.
Every branch a piece of the whole.
For in this world the heart is naked
Without the divinity of the soul.

Hear, oh blessed children, these
Our words which speak of hope
For all within His keep.
Kiss the sky, the earth, the dew
It’s all the same form when it’s new.

Certain as the sun will rise to bathe the earth
Free your hearts of pain and laugh with joy and mirth.
For there is little need for sorrow
Never fear the morrow
For God will light the way.

Blessed are we all this day
For we can bow our heads and pray
To give our thanks for life and love
That lives within and also above.

Try to see the glory
In the dawn.
Fix your eyes to see the fawn
And all the creatures of the earth
Who give to us from birth
The signs that heaven’s here where WE are
Not some far off cloud or star

Certain as the sun will rise
Sure as clouds fill up the skies
The heaven that we long to find
Is here within our very mind.
It’s there for those who stop and listen

For us the noise of life it
Fills our heads with strife
When on the star doth glisten
Light reflected in our thought
Of kindness truth and love.

Glory! Glory! Tell the story,
Never let it die.
That there is life beyond this earth
For all - for you and I.

See the life forever after
Know that it is real.
For you are meant to carry on
And do your best to heal
The pain of those who know not yet
These truths we carry forward.

Carry not your troubles far
Keep them there, held close at heart
The fact is that they play a part
Of greater things which you know not.
A bigger picture… grand’s the plot.
A tiny fraction you do see
Of God’s impressive majesty.
But as your soul progresses further
More’s the truth you learn.

The Second Poem - What's the Rush?

Okay, we're on to something here ... I sat down this morning to meditate, hoping I would have a similar experience as yesterday. They didn't let me down. Once again, the words flowed. The following is exactly as it came out. No re-writes. No long pauses, because there was no need to think. In fact, the few times I DID think, the flow stopped. Again, all of this in just a few minutes time... (Note that some of the very poetic words at the end are words that COMMANDER Giesemann would NEVER write in HER poetry!!!) :-) All the more evidential to me...

MY THOUGHTS: Once again, as I was taking the notes I thought that this was “stupid” – that it would sound contrived. I was shocked when I opened my eyes and saw how many pages I’d filled. Then, when I transcribed it onto the laptop I got goose bumps. Reading it as a whole, I know I didn’t do this.
The message I take from this today is to not ask the questions. To let them tell me what they want me to know. And yes, I hear them: take it easy. We have lots of time. Awesome. Simply awesome.My question at the start: What would you like me to share with the audience at the Open Doors classroom this Saturday? (I tried setting my laptop in my lap, but felt rushed. My fingers were twitching like crazy.)

Do not worry the words will come.
We will not stop ‘til our work is done
For on this day we start anew
The information we’ll give to you.

This is a method that works well for us.
In us you have full faith and trust.
Blessed is he who knows the truth
Of light and love and … (Here I felt as if my rational mind was grasping for a word)

Get your thoughts out of the way
It’s ours to speak to you today.
Hurry, hurry … don’t you worry
We have the time, no need to scurry.

For this is wisdom that’s meant to share
There’s time for all. Just don’t you care.

I SWITCH NOW TO PEN AND PAPER (Typing instead of writing didn’t feel right). I asked: “What can I tell people about the topic that we’re all spiritual beings now?”

As spirit beings you’re free to fly
The love inside you tells you why
For this is sacred work you do
It’s out of love we come to you

Fear not that words will leave you dry
We have the time, no need to try.
We’re glad you took the time to know us
Slow down, fear not, don’t order: “show us”

So here’s the story, write it down
You have a history as a clown
You laugh and cry and share a drink
No time to stop to care or think

But in the silence, that’s the place
To find the truth in quiet space.
The need to stop and spend some time
Is what will send you … (hit a wall here)

Feel the love within your heart
That’s the place you need to start.
To know that all are made of this
The spirit’s what will bring you bliss.

Never doubt that we are here
Think of us and we’ll draw near
For this is what we’ve come to do
To share our thoughts with all of you.

Write them down as fast you will
There’s more to come, more wisdom still.
For this our work has just begun
Relax, breathe deep and have some fun

Don’t worry that the thoughts are yours
It’s ours to put the song to verse
For now take leave, we bid farewell
There’s time for more, you’ll do quite well.

You laugh because we talk with mirth
No need for dourness in our work

We’ll give you what you need to know
Relax, slow down, let’s take it slow.
Don’t ask – we’ll tell you when time is right
No need to stay up half the night

Dear one, we’ll never leave you worry
Slow down, relax, there is no hurry
No lack of knowledge do we bring
Rejoice, it’s you our praises will sing

For this is sacred work indeed
To come to those in need
With words of love and truth and beauty
This we say is your new duty

Take a pen and write the prose
That’s sweet and fragrant like a rose
For nothing is as sweet as love
That comes and settles like a dove
To softly whisper in the ear
Hear me, darling, I am near.

For God is not on clouds above
It’s in your heart – pure, simple love
Go inside to find this treasure
Nothing brings us greater pleasure
To know you’ve found the truth of life
That love is what will make things right.

The First Poem

Please read the entry entitled "The Poetry Begins" before reading this poem.

The following poem is verbatim what I wrote on my notepaper, except that for this transcription I have added punctuation and formatting. In a light altered state, I wrote the words that I heard in my mind with eyes closed after asking the questions: "What can you tell me about the subject of "judgement" and what guidance do you have for my spiritual workshop this coming Saturday?

Here is the answer from the spirit world, written in less than 10 minutes in a solid stream with no corrections:

As above, so below
You reap what you sow.
So in times of trouble, dear
Hold onto faith, for help is near.

We come to you in troubled times,
The hope of many rests in thine.
For this we say is yours to keep
The lessons you’ve sown you will to reap.

Judge not others, but of yourself be the judge.

You, in your heart, know the truth:
Happiness is earned;
Let others not be spurned.

The poet is within. We all are one.

Go forth with our blessing…

Trust that we are watching and guiding, and will not let you fail.

(I then wrote: “Lightheaded/quickening. Yes, signs of our presence. Not channeling, but blending”)…

Yes, prepare,
But speak with confidence if you dare.
Ours is to leave you without care.
Such a gift is very rare.

From love we come, it’s in your genes.
You have the talent, we the means.
Rest in peace, assured of light.
With us beside you, you’ll soar in flight.

The world is ready for these your words.
They wait and listen with wings like birds.
For ours is yours and yours is ours.
Such is the greatness of the Great Spirit’s powers.

Blessed are all who know these truths.
Shout it, blast it, from the roofs.
Be our voice, we work with you.
We come to speak of beauty true.

Divine is the light of which we speak.
Beauty lies in the watch we keep.
Speak of love, speak of beauty …
This, my dear, is your great duty.

We love you and hold you in our keep.
Go forth and trust that you can speak.
With this we leave you this blessed day.
Come back to us and together we’ll pray.

For we are here; at your side we wait.
It’s with great hope we anticipate
The truths you’ll carry to those who listen
The truths of God on your words will glisten.

Go now and rest for there’s work to do.
We have great love and trust in you.
You have our blessing. In you we’re proud.
Take our wisdom and shout it loud.

We love you all. For this we’ve come.
There is no rest ‘til the Spirit’s work is done.

The Poetry Begins

On Saturday, July 11th, I gave a workshop at the Angels by the Sea gift shop in Plymouth, MA. Afterwards, shop owner Nancy Gratta asked me to have a seat so she could share something with me. Nancy told me that during my presentation, her spirit guides had told her that I would be given guidance that I needed for an upcoming workshop during my meditation in the coming week. She also told me that I would be given answers to a question one of the workshop participants had asked about "judgment." Nancy didn’t know what the guidance would be, but she said it would be a beautiful experience and she was happy and excited for me. She advised me to sit in meditation as I always do and ask for that understanding.
My mediumship mentor -- one of the best mediums I know -- had been telling me for the past month to have pen and paper nearby as I meditated. She told me that I would be doing automatic writing. I asked if the spirits would move my pen or if I’d just hear their words and write them down. She said it would be the latter, but that I’d know they weren’t my words. I tried this a few times, and twice had some wonderful thoughts come to me, but always I felt doubts that these were my own thoughts and not the words of spirit.
On July 12th, 2009, I sat and meditated and asked for my guides to blend with me. Before I sat in my regular meditation space in the aft cabin of our sailboat Liberty, I placed a notebook and pen on the desk before me. I felt very lightheaded and knew from recent experiences that there was a presence with me. Now in a light altered state, I thanked the spirits who had come, then I asked my question about judgment and asked them what understanding and guidance they had for me for my spiritual presentation this coming Saturday. I suddenly felt the need to pick up the paper. I placed it in my lap and wrote a few words. Within seconds, words started flowing. After a few sentences, I noticed that the words were rhyming. I felt surprise and slight elation, for the lines had real rhythm and rhyme, yet they were coming to me without my thinking. They came so quickly that I didn’t have time to THINK – I just kept writing and realized, “They’ve sent me a poet!”
I could sense when I was near the bottom of a page and just kept filling page after page without opening my eyes. I could tell as I wrote each line that it made sense and that it rhymed, but I had no sense of the words as a whole. I intuitively knew when they had finished, so I laid down the pen. And then I sat there and cried. I hadn’t even read the words, yet I knew they were special. I knew I hadn’t written them from my conscious mind. It had taken no more than ten minutes to write all the words, and I could not have done that by myself.
I took the paper to my husband, Ty, who had been in the forward cabin of our boat. He was concerned because he'd heard my crying. I told him what had happened, then read the poem aloud, in its entirety, for the first time for either of us. As I read line after line and realized that they formed a beautiful message, I sobbed more and more from the enormity of the words and the experience. Ty -- who is normally very stoic -- was crying, too, for there was no denying that what I had just experienced was nothing short of miraculous.
With awe at the wisdom and creativity of the spirit world, I realized that if I had simply written words or thoughts, I would not have had the evidence I or others needed that the words truly came from a live, intelligent spirit world. Instead, they sent me a poet who wrote in words I would never have chosen myself and they answered my exact two questions (about judgment and about guidance for my upcoming speaking).
The next day I could hardly wait to try again. I closed my eyes and slowly entered into the same light altered state of meditation that I had trained myself to do. Just as the day before my right index finger began to twitch and I felt the presence of spirits. I picked up the pen and paper -- still with eyes closed -- and waited for the words to come. When they did, I had a repeat experience of the day before. As I wrote, I thought, "This isn't going to make any sense." I tried to keep my rational mind out of it and paid no attention to what my hand was writing. Poem #2 had a new and interesting message for me: Slow down .... we have plenty of time for this. The feeling of the poem was almost playful, and once again, the words were definitely not my own.
Subsequent days revealed new rhythmic styles, new ways of rhyming, new messages, and different spirits giving me the words. I shared the poems each day with close friends and family members who know me well enough to know that I would never make up these things, and that I could never write poetry like this - especially non-stop, with eyes closed, with no re-writes, and always in less than 20 minutes each. My mother's words echoed my own thoughts: "Suzy, there's no WAY you wrote those words." This, from a woman who previously denied the presence of a spirit world and the possibility of life after death.
I feel compelled to share these poems and their beautiful messages with a greater audience than just my circle of like-minded friends. Those who know me, will know that I am not the true source of these words. Those who don't can make up their own minds. The poems, from the spirit world tell their own messages. Please enjoy them and feel free to give your own interpretation of the messages and how each poem affected you as you read it.