Would you visit a medium if you lost someone special?

The visit to Monique the Medium on Christmas Day (A channelled voice whispers) Every clock in here These old faded white wooden ones Hanging on so many burnt out trees That litter the pathway As they tick Remind me of you Every single second In every single minute Carries luminescent memories Of all the wild but lovely things We 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 such 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 red lipstick But got distracted By the sweet voices In this darkness That strives All good things to Underpin And now In here The Great In-Between My parable If deciphered by an illuminated one, would read If love is offered Freely and Willing Clasp it Hold it and treasure 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 Through Monique Like a soft fingertip across your warm spine I'll see you soon Skyclad 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 trus 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 old wooden faded white clocks tic From dawn to dusk as I walk pasy The Ascended Ones Husks (C) Copyright John Duffy Image shared under fair usage policy