Time To Listen. . . .

Time To Listen

It is not as easy as it seems.   Try to think, to place in mind a picture of a Being other than human.   We have our science fiction writers who give us caricatures of what they suppose we would accept.  The images in fact may be actual.   Consider that.

I had awakened from a nap that had a familiar feel to it one very cold day in March when we lived in the North.   I had a messed up knee and needed to lay the body down for awhile.  I knew the place of the dream though I could not name it if pressed.   So it was not in this particular world or enclosure where I am.  When I awakened I kept feeling my hands as if they were foreign to me.

Like my hands are miraculous.   I have been feeling them within each palm and my fingers have a sensation to them that was amazing.   My fingers lace with one another and am surprised at what they do.   And are they not a wondrous piece of work?  With smooth and supple fingers that I have never appreciated before. I have never felt so at home in this body as I have since I awakened from that nap.

How long it has taken me to come to this minute where my hands seem like an intricate blueprint of some great mind.   It has taken me a lifetime to note this.  As I sit here and give houseroom to Beings other than human because we talk of other worlds,  envision what you are able of how life in other worlds different than ours might be fashioned.   What would life be like in a place where none of our essentials exist  and bodies are like nothing we view in the mirror.  Yet soulful with intelligence struggling for expression where words have not been born.   A species of life with no name yet.  Was that our beginning?

There is unfinished work everywhere.   If asked, would we be willing with our tools, whatever we have mastered to take only in mind upon transiting this Earth,  to be one for the vineyards?   Or would we rush for the exit that would take us right back to where the toys are plenty?   And what if we find ourselves in a not so lush Eden as the previous trip?   We must stretch our thinking for the rules are changing. We must in times of quiet give thought to where the Indwelling God will take us.

It is time to listen.

Because I Know. . .

I see worlds in motion
taking a portion of each one’s talent
for their own survival.

This is what I do with my hands,
this motion of knitting yarns
to form a piece of world
to fit the mind of an elusive soul.

See here, I, content in what I do,
I free a soul to do the Great God’s bidding
in keeping only one world in motion.

See again. . . I give of my Self in time,
to free an Other to build what may be
the perfect Universe or many.

So content, this that is mine to see,
a great plan, a strategy, unheard of.
It may not be for centuries that
my knitting fingers will alert the senses
of a soul to keep in motion,
a Life, a Being, an Idea.

Sit here with me. . . and show
my hands what to do and they will do. . .
The task, so simple will gather
other talents and make for itself
the grand design, futures down the line.

A bidding the nature of what
has never been seen before.
I know it and because I know. . . .

you will know it also.


art by Claudia Hallissey


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