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Friday, April 26, 2019

Beyond the Valley/St. George is my patron

Until new inspiration comes, old material that had to be archived when Google Plus dropped a number of services, will be reposted.

Beyond the Valley/St. George is my patron
4-1-12
You have walked through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. And though a piece of your heart stayed behind, it is not yet your time to dwell therein. The Valley seems a sad place, especially after paths diverge and loved ones are parted for a time.
   All emerge from the Valley of Shadows but the perceptions of reality are altered. For a time, they may seem distorted.Those who must return to this plane of existence grieve their "lost" companions. No one is lost, they are simply unseen.
   What of those left behind? There are stories of near-death experiences but, as life is individual, so is death. We seek a commonality to help us know what we might expect.
   My feeling is our loved ones emerge from the Valley to a place beyond the Shadows. They enter a world of ethereal light and joy. Any trace of pain, encumbrance, anything which impedes fullness of joy, is lifted.
   Is it thus for all who depart this earth? Isn't any *afterlife* a reflection of one's "spiritual" life? If one took perverse pleasure in causing others pain, will that person ultimately be rewarded? It is not for mere mortals to say.
   In the beyond, wonders are so vast, sorrow must cede to joy. Your loved ones remember you and delight in knowing there awaits a joyous reunion. Beloved waits with open arms, wagging tail or however love is expressed.
   Those who believe in a benevolent Deity may be ridiculed by skeptics. Does it matter? Always seek the path of love and you will find where you need to be.
*****
The following is a poem I was moved to write after a friend lost a loved one:


They tell me, "Go not gently" into that last goodnight.
But after lo these any years, I'm much too tired to fight.
But even had I strength, I fear I would be loath
to take on that old dragon, to swear a feudal oath.
Don't think I have been conquered because my eyes grow dim.
Death, my friend, has come for me - I'm not afraid of him.
I have ridden proud and sat high in the saddle
But my body has been broken down from long and grievous battle.
Chemo was my ally, though we had our go-'rounds too.
At times I understood him not, he left me feeling blue.
I've seen so many people and many have seen me.
They've seen me being bathed and watched me when I pee.
I've made my peace with God, lived a long, fulfilling life,
kissed all my kids and  friends goodbye and spoken to my wife.
She will let me die with dignity, unplugged from the machine.
She'll trim my hair and brush my teeth and wash my body clean.
Then we'll share a glass of wine and she'll hold me 'gainst her breast.
My eyes will close, I'll breathe my last and finally be at rest.

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