Waiting

The healer, did he come for you. Did he make you new?.  How did he know it was you that day. Most unexpected random day, random word in the ear. Softly through to your central workings. Waiting for change to happen.

A Thousand People & Mesmerise

A thousand people in one room morphing in transmigration, a thousand faces coming and going spinning energising pulled from the vortex of the chakra all fleeting stepping up and on differing plains of existence fast moving dispersal to the halls of judgement and Akashic records to discover where we are bound for next.

Message to discarnate forces why would one float alone with an absence of family we are told we die alone, but to whom or what do we belong, as only those left, the current living miss one the most. So why are you alone in the hall of reckoning waiting to read the Akashic records waiting for rebirth in a lonely place upon a wavelength of karmic pattern.

Mesmerise

Mesmerise all that drama in a magazine with colours so bright it comes to life on a coffee ?  table near you, vibrant above your daily drab it calls you, its all makeup and fizz. collect them for colour and kaleidoscope rainbow of personal drama…

 

The Year 2096 & What A Strange Saying

The year 2096, on planet earth much had changed the ring pass knot surrounding earth commonly known as the ozone layer had eroded the god that is the sun which was strong and more punishing than ever.

Skin cancer had become the epidemic of the times, crop failure and death by shrivelling heat had left millions of humans as husks upon the barren ground, earth population had diminished to the merest of millions. Even the sea looked like the surface of mars.

Those who survived on high or in caves in India had concentrated their efforts upon perfection and preservation for what was to become known as the pineal gland bank, thousands of preserved pineal gland’s catalogued in small specialised containers frozen ready for the coming days of transmitting and transmigration to transmit the knowing to the greater light in another life stream.

At Two Forty Five.

Very densely alone under the upturned ocean that is the sky, our minds eye what a strange saying. But how real is it, to be two eyes to a mind and clouds of the now, before and after. But beyond is the inner eye, another universe and more than man can see with two eyes open.  Go to sleep, for this measure in breath involution and out breath, go back in then beyond limitation to what will become more than this life a soul beyond spirit and more and more than can be seen through cloud gaps at two forty five in the afternoon.

The Lonely Boy & All Purity Gone.

The lonely boy who has no fear pigeon post upon a windows ledge, pitched message in a tiny scroll, tied it…a sash window opens, a hand reaches out, a minute message rolls out it says look up my child unto the infinities.

I have answers to your worries on a worldly scale it says, cast all aside and part the clouds, come to me on high. I will pull you through from thoughts of despair to repair the damage of man in his demonic days.

I will set you free in a million golden sunflowers pointing to our life gods sun in aura to be blessed and healed away from harm and condemnation, to radiate within a joy you’ve never felt so far. I will hold you and there will be know more fear within in the loving benevolence of the one truth I give you now for all the love you have missed.

 

All Purity Gone

All purity gone don’t run away it won’t catch up anytime soon harbour ropes cut your drifting in wide open sea in your wooden raft no compass now barely a wind to cast you to shore sun beams into your core only a shoreline will save your soul in a sea of wrath.

Mason Cult a Man of Sixth Sense.

Mason Cult a being of superior intuition has noticed the ever increasing levels of sex crimes in the media every hour. Every waking moment of each and every day, the stakes were thus that under Mason’s mind microscope these sex crimes were coming up as something else, indeed the plot was truly thickening it occurred to Mr Cult that these sex crimes were the failed mating attempt of clumsy faulty aliens, the progeny before and before, that this was mistake, after mistake. Not unveiled as yet, this was truly evil at work and is every day now to be seen but nothing declared or revealed, yet as this would compromise national and international security.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive