. Poetry from The Great In-Between: Would you visit a medium if you lost someone special?

Wednesday, December 25, 2024

Would you visit a medium if you lost someone special?


 Would you visit a medium if you lost someone special?


The visit to Monique the Medium on Christmas Day


(A channelled voice whispers)


Every clock in here 


These old faded white wooden ones

Hanging on so many burnt out trees 


That litter the pathway


As they tick

Remind me of you


Every single second

In every single minute 


Carries luminescent memories 


Of all the wild but lovely things

We used to do


As they suddenly manifest


Like a magician's trick

Right out of the blue


And if my broken heart could beat


Could scream to the high heavens


It would carry drum beats of such irreversible revelations

So true


I would die once more

In palpable bliss


If I could write a parable

It would only be


I yearned once for a touch of your silky skin


And a taste of your red lipstick


But got distracted

By the sweet voices


In this darkness

That strives


All good things to 

Underpin


And now

In here

The Great In-Between 


My parable 


If deciphered by an illuminated one, would read


If love is offered

Freely and

Willing 


Clasp it

Hold it and treasure it


And it's why now these sparkling twinkling lights

Dancing before me 


Reflections of you


Shine so brightly in this ever-hot dust

From dawn to dusk


Showcasing your beautiful image

To the empty husks 


Of the Ascended Ones


Night and day

That litter the roads and pathways 


Some in here call

The Lord's Way

Come what may


So while the Baylore energies 


Magnify my thoughts into these words


Through Monique


Like a soft fingertip across your warm spine


I'll see you soon

Skyclad in blue

In your deepest of dreams


Wide-eyed

Mighty and free


Where we'll be reunited once more


But not like Orpheus and Eurydice


To be snatched away by a lack of trust


But forever 


And that's why 

My love


I still see your reflection 

In these embers 

In this everlasting dust


In every single second

And minutes


As these tired old wooden faded white clocks tick


From dawn to dusk

as I walk past


The Ascended Ones

Husks


(C)

Copyright John Duffy


Image shared under fair usage policy

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