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FROM HIS BOOK: THE QUEST FOR GNOSIS©1998
I wrote this originally at age 7, I tried to recall what I wrote here.
A NOTE FROM THE BOOK OF THE LIVING AND THE LIVING BEYOND: THE BOOK OF THE
DEAD AND THE NO LONGER DEAD, OF THE RISEN OF THE SPIRIT AND THE SONS OF LIGHT.
Today, when the PeterBird spoke, I heard this FROM AFAR:
MY WINGED FRIEND, HATH TOLD ME SO:
Today, perchance a bird touched down on the sill of my window, looking out across the woody places.
It spoke my name and after another with wings, like a human but all alight, in cosmic spaces.
Spoke it again of love transcending the graveCrossing the barrier of fear from one life to another or others.
There, where shades of men become bright, like Sons of Light, they know, they know, for they are our sisters and
brothers;
Then, we will know, we will know, oh, yes, all things we will then know
And when we do, many passages here and there, some swift, some slow.
We will see, as do they; the future at times clearly, at others through a glass but darkly;
A smoky glass, see things once dim and clouded, now clear and starkly so.
See how futile is hate and recrimination, how divine forgiveness and loving trust, How progress to Light is made
from lifetime to lifetime, as try we must.
For progress, even for the 36 is slow, from lifetime and place, to lifetime and place,
From crowded land and crowded air, to cluttered street and crowded church to even cluttered outer space,
And even those who grasp what evades the rest, need tending by human arm and breast,
Who see, at times so dimly and darkly, at others the future brightly, and best.
Best of those who know the thoughts, know the lives and deaths before they come, knows the results of small
inattentions,
Cannot convey but only to those close enough to the realm of the precipice beyond which are Beings of
interventions.
Having been gifted/cursed, of half a soul of corporeal makeup, half in the spirit,
Makes them still not perfect, still the present and the future, though seen, even they, at times, fear it
For still, at times, the flesh prevails and in this their humanity insecure, breakthrough and possess,
Though all the time they know, they know, they fall, they fall, they curse and they bless,
Yes, oft must they pass through vaulted dome from breath to death,
And back again, from death to life, and to life and death, from vacuum to breath.
Forgive those who ask it, those contrite, face revealing contrition, though fearing to say,
And when thou dost, Thee will see the Light beyond, the light, which clarifies, the life, the resurrection and the
way.
For those who see only fashion,
pray for they cannot articulate earnest compassion,
Nor can they bless themselves, for revenge their mantra and ne’er is there sympathy,
Thus, havethey lost the art of love, compassion, feeling, empathy.
Hark now, the light is not far off, for each visit, here is shorter than the last,
And soon one knows, when one is Chosen, that one day soon, and when need of all questions, past.
Seek, ye those which steal away the breath of the spirit, theirs alone, if in their last obsession,
Will grab all, despite cosmic risk, they grasp at every, last, single possession,
With only days ‘fore their last visit there, one last chance, one last moment,
They who still do harm and acquire, those who need no more, who’ve scourged the earth, and war did foment
Just for torture which gives them rise, their impotence of spirit, who say they have a Higher Father,
But of the heart, the soul, empathy, deep love of all, Muslim, Jew, Christian, Buddhist, they cannot bother,
They are a dirge upon land, air and water, the scourge of bodies and torturers of the peaceful soul,
To they the and those who sycophant, their rancor, one only, is the answer, they must and will descend for e’ er to
Sheol
They’ve lost the prize for hatred is their soul, the wealth and power which Jesus from the ground rejected;
They accepted, they rejoiced within the evil they’ve reflected and which Virus Incubus, they’ve been for e’ er
infected,
Go forth without them, for they are lost, shake, at last, from thy feet the dust of the place they have destroyed,
their reward they have seen,
Their heaven they have tasted, their wealth they’ve wasted, their souls they have flayed, their peace they’ve
racked, their lives have been.
Nightmares which just men have, they are, about, not out of fear, but of empathy for those done harm, those slew,
those devastated, those delayed,
By those who evil love and peace they hate, ‘cause where in some the soul doth dwell, there now resides a deep
black hole, never there love to be played,
The place of light, where Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, Moses, Michael, Gabriel, light, is not their goal, no they
have fell.
A long way down to Sheol, no, see farther, where they meet to torture those who followed them, in life, to follow
them in Hell.
And those of peace and love and, to which no one, whether race or creed or gender, nor visage is rejected,
For those who’ve stayed the course, who fell and rose and fell and rose and fell… and rose again, but never with
the Virus Incubus, were infected,
Not to men of power, did they approval seek, nor those who sell or buy false favor, nor those who say, “I know
the infallible way,
Follow me and thou will see, but first thy coin and trust and later see Paradise, endow!”
But those who say, “I know the light, I see it’s proof, I follow not man, for those who do will rue the day.”
They know, they know, thou wilt see their works, their knowledge of what comes, their insights into truth now, of
future, of past as well, and stir the pot, and stay;
Within which are foods of life, promote not what desire thou, but what those below thou need, for much they
have not!
Listen to the revelations of quiet, just men, seek their council, then ask the God above what is cool and what is
hot,
Pray not what canst be done for thee, exploit not thy underlings, but what for others which need thy help, makes
one as guilty as those which,
Exploit one’s fears, one’s bigotry.
In the end a thousand lives, a thousand generations of reward at life to practice that, which is perfection?
So few thou see have passed thy way again, because along the way,
So many fallen to infection.
Behold John, 4:442, ’Tis not thy lustful glands which corrupt thy life beyond repair, for what few does that
affect, but avarice, greedy war, stealing from those poor, will thee pull out thy hair,
And writhe in angst, the only Hell there is, is Thine not for entering the musky cave ‘tween the thighs, but for
cheating, slandering, collecting greedily all coin, whence thy store is full a’ yet, why fore dost such a thing, thou
doest?
For shame, take blame, repent, e’ er thy soul be lost for ‘ere, but if thou be satisfied to live and let live thou wilt
be saved, if not in avarice thy soul will burn forever more, Lo, in that place of fire and Hell, the hats purple, red
and white flourish, kings, and kingmakers, overpopulate, and rustic backwoods politickers, to the cities go, to fill
vast silo’s of gold and grain, and sell the tax results to marketers no less, when Hell calls the skull of death
awaits.
Care not if thee, fairly played, took no advantage, paid no bribes, slit no throats, made no wars, and those which
have robbed the old, the weary, the young, the widow, those retired, those indigent, those who need thy council, if
these thou dealt well with, thou art safe in afterlife’s repose, of joy and comfort, not mouth stopped up with dusty
sand, Rejoice! Thou art at peace in the land of milk and honey free from cares of war and money!
Rejoice for thou Temptation in the Wilderness, which Jesus threw aside, thou also ‘gainst Constantine, also
rejected, passed o’re Opus Demoniac, reflected, rejected not and sealed Sheol ‘gainst Yeshua.
Rejoice, thou art a good fellow, good woman, have thou an eternity inspected, of,
God blessing thee forevermore.
I end the rhyme for quatrains and more, have failed me at the end, so joyous was my flight, Good day to all, to all
good night.