Beneath My Heart. . .

I was lying in the hospital bed and knowing that my body was having a difficult time.  I was clear of head knowledgeable when I saw the figure at the foot of my bed.  And an arm was raised clothed in a grey robe and the hand was outstretched.  I lay there with both arms rigid by my body like dead weights.  I could not lift them if I had wanted to, even  if I felt that my life depended on me lifting them.

I was not surprised by the visit nor frightened but somehow with an of course.  My question was,  ‘but who would take care of the children?’  There was no answer and the figure faded away.   The nurse walked in and took one look at me and said Oh my god and turned and ran.  She came back with an injection and murmured something about turning sour.

There have been several incidents of this nature in my life which threatened the insecure security of many people close to me.  The science doctors have done an excellent job of disclaiming any experiences like this  to convince people that only what can be seen and measured and named is real.

I have felt my commitments strongly and had always assumed other people felt the same.  That they do not is an aspect of humanity and evolution I have had a difficult time dealing with.  I still have mountains to climb.  One though I was born not having to is that my arguments with heaven are real and because as my mentor promised my eyes are not veiled and my ears are not clogged,  I see and hear.  When I choose not to comment,  it is to preserve peace.

On the eve of our son David’s birthday who transited 32 years ago when he was 31,  I wish to thank him again and again for reaffirming my philosophy and verifying that the unseen is as much of an obstacle as the seen and most often a help.  He was a philosophy major firstly and a lawyer to boot,  and I still miss his conversation, arguments and his eloquence.  But most of all,  thank you David for choosing me as your mother for this leg of the journey because I chose you.


(the following was written in response to a cosmic question)

Beneath My Heart. . .

How could I not love them?
They grew beneath my heart,
waiting for my heart to beat
so that theirs’ would continue beating.

Did you not think
I would not know that?
And they would be reason enough
for me to keep breathing?

You did not know me. . .
Like a bear
I would fight for my cubs.
I made them. . .

They wear my name
and one day they
will remember. . .

who taught them about love.


2 responses to “Beneath My Heart. . .”

  1. I have not been able to see and hear with earthly eyes and ears….something I have greatly envied in others who could. Instead, I see and hear only with my heart. No one listens to me anyway, so I have to feed from my intuition, and writings such as yours.
    And so I understand both your joy and pain.

  2. Suzanne, Your heart is your best compass. Your refined intuition listens carefully because your heart never misinforms. I appreciate your comments. They are insightful.

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