The visit to Monique the Medium.

 

Do you want to read a poignant, dreamlike meditation on love, loss, memory, and the spiritual longing for reunion?

Where the speaker talks about a love that is raw, deep, and filled with both beauty and regret?

A parable and cautionary tale.

Urging us to recognize love when it’s offered.

And to hold it dear, and not to let the distractions of the world pull us away from what truly matters.

Title.

The visit to Monique the Medium. 

(A channelled voice whispers)

Every clock in here 

These old faded white wooden ones, hanging on so many burnt out trees 

That litter my new pathways as they tick, so remind me of you

Every single second

In every single minute, carry such luminescent memories 

Of all the wild but lovely things, we once 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 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 bright red lipstick

But got distracted by the sweet voices

In the darkness of society, that strives all good things to underpin

And now in here, in my memories Great In-Between 

My parable 

If deciphered by an illuminated, one would read

If love is offered freely and willingly 

Clasp it

Holds it and treasures 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

Like a soft fingertip across your warm spine

I'll see you soon, sky clad 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 wooden clocks tick

From dawn to dusk for true love can never be crushed 

Even though life is so fleeting, I can never forget, our first meeting

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Image shared under fair usage policy.