Last night I met with Nancy Gratta, the woman who predicted this whole new way of communication for me. She confirmed what I’ve been sensing – that there’s a whole group coming through, as evidenced by the different styles and messages each time. Today is a perfect case in point …
#8. 21JUL09
Write
Take flight
At night the dark gives fright
But know
We go
To sleep to rest
But short of height
We stop and wait for fate
To call
And fall
Like drops of rain
But heed our warning
In the morning
Comes the truth
Wait
Contemplate your fate
Forget the mass of men
Who march in lines of ten
Their way brings no release
No peace
Shallow graves hold bones
Remains
No gains are made with guns
You’re the ones
Who fight and quarrel
Without sorrow for tomorrow
But if two would stop and see
That love’s the way to harmony
Gone would be the need to fight
For what you think is right
War no more
No score
Just love
Hawk or dove
There’s no choice
Rejoice
One’s the way
Just pray
Today, I say
Be gay
And dance
Instead of shooting
Looting
Taking what belongs to others
Be ye brothers
All the same
This is no game
Know these truths
There’s little time
Step in line
Be mine
My nephew decided he was off to join the army. He told me these intentions when i came home for my dad’s funeral. I was cross with him… and hoped i had the words to change his mind, saying: “So you’re going to another country to kill men, women and children because you know nothing about their lives and know even less about why you’ll be sent someplace and why they send you there…(?) because it won’t be what you are told!
He cried at my crass… and stated he only hoped to do his job well.
He went… …Ended up in Afghanistan… where his vehicle hit a buried bomb whike he was talking to his peer beside him. His friends face blew away. My nephew came home, after serving yet another year, but he came home a broken man who had marched in lines of ten. His sensitive heart could not withstand his experiences, yet his ego had told him to keep going, keep fighting, keep being the guy he was trained to be by “them”, not by those who had taught him it was fine to be sensitive.
Do i hold anger in my heart for those who sent him to war? Yes. …Not because they sent him, but sent them all who marched in lines of ten… because the feeble-minded senders in their own disbelief, didn’t go themselves to fight the other senders in their own disbelief. It was easier to create the propaganda for others than to believe in what they were actually doing to those in Afghanistan while senders reap potential rewards made from war. I loathe the feeling of disgust, especially intense disgust, in my heart. Damned right angers me, much more than you know.