The Soul Remembers
There is a pronounced ugliness there, brassy, irritable attitudes found nowhere else.
Anger and rage is rampant. Desperation, disease, strife, rape, and murder happen daily.
I shudder at the thought; these concepts are well beyond my sensibilities.
One of the guides flips a button, and the viewing screen starts. I am shown desperate people who are willing to perform unspeakable acts for a meal or a place to sleep.
“Some are deluded not realizing the person they called friend could plunge a knife
Into their heart in an instant of rage, without caring.”
The stories are harsh, stark, frightening, and surreal. I back away from the screen and look
At the leader of the masters. He is glaring at me, awaiting my decision. I can choose to stay in
Heaven to learn my next five lessons, or to go to Earth.
If I choose Earth, it’ll be a lot faster, but Heaven is safe.
“But surely there is some good there,” I argue. My voice cracks, as if I am pleading.
A soft hood nods. “Newborn babies,” she says softly.
The other hoods join in, “Puppies,” “rainbows,” “gentle rain,” “flowers,” “hope,” “faith.”
“I choose to learn my lessons on Earth,” I tell them.
My voice sounds stronger now. “I’ll watch for the good,” I tell them.
I am thinking I’ll nurture it too, so I say that.
Because in Heaven to think a thought is to say it.
I am impregnated within minutes.
By the time I can walk without a toddle, this memory is but a wisp in my hair.
Luckily, my spirit guides will remember.
They remind me in my sleep.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018
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