(there are those like me in our terminus who have carried what the sophisticated did not because they were born for better lives they said, more important things than menial work. Because for reasons mostly involving children, the work of caring for those unable fell on unsuspecting shoulders. We find a hundred years later with the reality of this beloved earth, the possibility that we may go down the tube again. And this sadness levies a burden unthinkable.
So I am repeating an essay hoping to touch compassion for the children who are already overburdened. Because I don’t know how they will live with minds filled with memories concerning people they cannot trust, There is no putting place for memories like those or their makers. And the children are many with a command of language not misunderstood.)
the following was in my blog in March 2015. . .
On NBC Nightly News this past March 20 a segment concerning a young boy with memory of a prior life was interviewed and his memories have proven valid and correct. I was not aware that Dr. Tucker of the University of Virginia was doing research on prior lives of children. As he said in the brief segment, he had over 2500 cases of lives of children with prior memories that cannot be dismissed. We of the western world have been religious in our dismissal of anything that smacks of reincarnation other than the gods we choose to believe in.
When I wrote the short essay on Choice Goods I had no conscious knowledge of this upcoming interview. What was my hope and is still is that we will listen to those who speak of prior lives and especially the children who are closer to their source than we who are readying for our departure. We have much to learn and so little time.
When I wrote this poem Rebus, (in the early 1960 ) I was newly aware of my different perspective and also the difference in my inward focus. It was almost six decades ago that I could no longer contain and pretend that what I saw and heard was what everyone else did. I, like those like me, have learned what society considers normal and rather than have circles made in mid air concerning our behavior, we conform. That we are able to survive is the miracle. That we also have contributed to humanity and have not dismantled our immediate world is the greater one.
Rebus. . .a puzzle
Where are my images
of which you profess
came into being before I am?
Where are the faceless faces
and formless forms
of which I know not
but in my depth?
We wander aimlessly searching,
faceless, formless,
only to be confronted
by what we are.
When my eyes behold my likeness,
will I rejoice?
Will the spirit be elevated
or cast into the pit?
The mist that sustains me,
sustains my images also.
But are they not made manifest
through me?
Perhaps . . .
I am the illusion
Perhaps I will find my Self
greater than my images.
