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Crossroads To Heaven
My heart stopped, you see Three times, thanks to foolishness ... But within the horror of it all I learned something ... extraordinary And the following is, for ME, Heaven ... ~ There is a passing ... Not passing from this life to oblivion But from one reality to another As if passing through a veil of matter, electric This reality is of knowing, familiarity and pain And the next, of delicacy and release ... and light Some say a tunnel ... But it is more a bridge with a striking brilliance at its end There is no sense of isolation or uniqueness None of the loneliness that we feel in our earthly human shells Not an iota of the horrible separation of being trapped in a body But rather an overwhelming sense of energy and purity A connection to all other energies and spirits No, MORE than a connection - the feeling is a unification ... A melding with the Universe and all it contains Oh, there is certainly a sense of being "self" The ability to move and do and feel and imagine as we do here But also the exquisite and sublime joy Of being a vital part of "the whole" Of being free of the pains and concerns of the worldly And knowing the transcendent optimism of eternity and peace The extraordinary and indescribable exuberance Of touching the face of The Creator. ALL is there ... And in saying "all" I mean everyone and everything That you have loved or has ever loved you Not just those who have gone ahead But those you thought you'd left behind For it is timeless - past, present, future - all one Whatever and whoever you loved that was behind the veil Is with you now, and always has been Those that left before you, are all there, with you And they always have been The joys of your life, even the smallest things, are with you The moon, ocean, foods, kisses, sunrises, scents, tastes, colors, music Every small and not-so-small experience Laid out before you, like a carpet of whimsical flowers All the faces you have missed, and the ones you thought you'd left Are about you, though their spirits are, like yours, of light You can see and smell and touch and talk to ALL At once or individually, it matters not And over and about and throughout, permeating everything Is The Creator ... He/She/It has everyone's face and NO face It is grace and forgiveness and kindness and contentment and, yes ... LOVE But there is one thing that, even being connected to The All ... You don't and couldn't expect There is a horizon, and a distant one It is very clear to every being, no matter where you go No matter who or what you're with And it is very dark, very foreboding, and inescapable It is the veil, you see ... The veil of death and hate and sorrow It dances, darkly, like a thread of evil And you know, despite the overwhelming joy and peace That it is IMPORTANT and necessary For it is the balance ... the yin to the yang The reminder and proof of the price we pay, when mortal The price we pay for everything that is good and loving and beautiful The black to our white, the dirge to our aria, the down to our up You can never approach it, no matter how hard you try But it is always there ... To make the light what it IS ... to make love what it IS For without that dark horizon, the rest would have no meaning No weight or measure or import But it creates no fear or bad emotions It is just ... there. Most of all, there is peace, abiding You swim it like warm water It saturates everything, letting souls expand And you are, like everything else, always expanding, moving, feeling Completely aware of how eternal it all is How eternal YOU are. ~ Of everything felt, I was certain, then, that I wanted to stay That my previous existence was not the REAL one, not the TRUE one That nothing could ever be as wonderful But something ... someONE, some ... intent ... Sent me back Perhaps to share ... Perhaps to learn, perhaps to just ... write this verse To let others know ... They need not be afraid For The Creator's cheek is soft And It's face ... Smiling. ~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Crossroads" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © 2024 Gregory Richard Barden. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things