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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