Thursday, December 15, 2011
I feel the rush of the blue white wind.
Spiraling upward ... ever upward.
There is a chill running up my spine as I soar...
I am going up and disintegrating as I travel.
I am still whole, I am still me.
I can see, feel, hear, smell, touch,
but I cannot speak.
There are no words to describe the ascent.
There are places between places and places
Where inside and outside exist together.
The love of the Universe is so expansive
That time and space matter no more.
I am. ... I am here.
That is all that matters.
I know not the destination of this wind.
this maelstrom of sound light and movement,
blue, white, blue, white...
Swirls of rainbows interspersed.
The roar is so intense that it is melodic.
There is a background of celestial music
incased within the upward and outward movement.
The songs of millions of Angels all in perfect harmony
Sing to the Joy of Being.
It is a special gift to be able to hear these sounds
And to feel the wind that dis-assembles but does not harm you.
You are whole and you are free.
You have been delivered.
You have arrived.
Home at last.
I am going home.
Home is here now.
© Dec 2 2011 Philip G. DeLoach
Posted by Philip DeLoach at 2:39 AM