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.