This poem is about a visit from a deceased family member. This is and of itself controversial to most people. Most people I would assume are skeptical.
I have discussed this with my daughter and niece and we are sort of in agreement. Only people who have had a visitation can assert to its validity with absolute certainty. I do not believe in séances where people call the dead or talk to them on the other side.
I believe with all my heart that there is no actual death but just a passing from one reality to another. I have reasoned this out over my lifetime and will avow to it.
I believe life was created at creation just like everything else. Matter was created as were all the known forces from out of the chaos.
Matter can’t be created nor destroyed, only changed in form. The elements of my body and everything around me were created approximately 14 billion years ago. They have just been arranged differently for different things over the eons. My elements are not me, they are just what I’m made of.
My soul or essence is me and it’s intangible. After I die, my soul will soar to worlds unknown. It returns to from whence it came. It doesn’t immediately jump into the next available vessel. My soul resides in the Ether or Firmament until re-allocated to something living by God, The Force that permeates the whole universe. Life is everywhere out there in the void of space.
My brother explained this to me in a dream that I have reiterated many times. It’s like catching a plane and going down the concourse to the plane. Before you get on the plane you look back and see all your love ones with their faces against the glass seeing you off. You can hear the drone of the plane (prop planes with propellers) which is the hum of the universe. You see the tarmac stretching to the horizon and merging with the sky, endlessness, infinity, foreverness!
I believe the recently passed linger believing they still have a duty or purpose to aid the living. It’s hard to give up responsibility and caring for love ones. When you die do you know you’re dead? Are you conscious that you have just passed? You’re in limbo but you have your memories and know who you are but not where you are.
I have had two near death experiences in my life and in both I saw that amazing white light. I was not frantic but at peace and went toward it. Was I unconscious? Probably! But I was aware.
The deceased eventually leave this limbo state and return to God and we never hear from them again. I believe some may get trapped somehow in this earthly realm and become ghosts, specters, wraiths, fades, etc. These things are scriptural and Biblical. I do not believe they can hurt you but can unnerve you.
I believe in duality and believe there is the light and the dark, Ying and Yang. For light energy there is dark energy, for light matter there is dark matter, male, female, etc. I believe that some of us go into the light and others are absorbed by the darkness.
My most profound question is; is the soul capable of improvement? Can we become better and better until we ascend to higher planes. I’ve been a mineral, a vegetable, a tree, a fish, a bird, an animal, and now I’m a man. Why should I fear death? That is paraphrased from an ancient Islamic text.
It seems irrational to assume we return to some huge melting pot and lose our identities. Over time our memories may become imperceptible but like our DNA they are passed on down from generation to generation thru the ages. Nothing can be created and nothing destroyed. Who we are or who we were is somehow recorded and preserved, our memories are indestructible just the same as a ripple going on forever or a word spoken is out there somewhere. All the noise that has ever been made is but the back ground hum of the universe.
Our minds are just not capable of comprehending the endlessness of the universe. God or as I call it, The Force, is unknowable, undefinable and unmeasurable.
My brother, Gene, visited me several times after he passed and reassured me. My mother has never visited nor my sister, JoAnn. I have pondered this because my mother was senile and didn’t remember me when she was alive. My sister sort of went crazy and became demented somewhat.
My brother Steve has chased me several times in my dreams. He and I didn’t get along at all. He had such a low self-esteem and deemed himself a failure. He spent most of his adult life in jail and his pre-teen years in reformatory. He was sane but insane in the same sense. He never made a good decision in his entire life. He died the day of my mother’s burial service which may have been a good thing because he was distraught and might have tried to kill me such was his hate for me.
My daughter avows that her deceased husband, Bob, visited her.
That is her story and I won’t try to tell it here because it is emotional being her husband committed suicide.
My niece says her father, my brother Gene, has never visited her dreams but she has seen his image sitting on her back porch with a cup of coffee in his hand or smelled his scent or essence nearby.
You would have to have known my brother to know it’s like him to visit us just to show us he could and have another tall story to tell. I can see him smiling even now.
I believe our dreams consist of a lot of things since we have all sorts of dreams. I have found that most of my dreams concern everyday events and are just a distorted re-enactment of that day’s proceedings.
The strange things like seeing a face outside the window or feeling a touch are something else. To feel a presence or have a premonition or foreboding is common but not ordinary. I will not hazard a guess but I have experienced such. I often feel a slight touch upon my arm as I recline in my recliner watching TV. It’s definitely a touch and not a stray breath of air or a mosquito or flee, it’s a touch and it only occurs in one place in my house. I am not afraid but just intrigued. It’s not a love one I don’t think but unusual all the same.
I am sure everyone has had some sort of experience with such stuff. Like I said I can’t describe what these things are. The intent of this poem was to write about a loved one’s visit and of the other realm or the other side.