For months I’d been confined in cage,
listening to bullets rage through the Viet Cong jungle.
No sweat from my pores in unrelenting sun --
dehydration, famine, yet my I planned my “escape”
Nearby, a tepid river ran foul with blood’s scent,
and when it became intolerable, my daily escape began.
I tasted cool, refreshing ice as my spirit soared
and a sense of freedom overwhelmed my soul as I rose.
Hovering o’er killing fields, I could not look down;
cries of the wounded went unheard in this altered state.
Somehow I knew my weak body lay crumpled below,
but I was pain free, feeling only peace in another realm.
Through astral projection I was able to see my family,
and it was only this journey that kept me alive.
Imagine communing with your family in this special way,
even though you are thousands of miles apart.
When rescued at last, many months had gone by,
and the US militia’s interest had been raised.
How could a POW feel no hate, seem so serene?
Such an enigma to ponder, but they’d never understand.
How did I survive? What kept me sane?
The officers knew nothing of my routine escape.
Awareness I achieved spared my life;
now I could return to my family
They’d prayed everyday that I would come home,
but there was something no outsiders knew.
Our spirits had communed on another plane each day.
Having a family escape plan still brings comfort.
*Entry for Caties Out-of-Body Experience Contest.
(Fiction based on books about OBEs)