Rolling landscapes glide past my inner eye
As Hawk and Owl sit on my shoulders:
I long to hug them to me;
Heron flies ahead.
I swim in a buoyant pond of light;
“Tell shared histories,
Instead of the histories of one—
One person, one group, one way of being.”
All my beloveds on the other side
Gather in a dark woods;
I see their silhouettes and shadows
And greet each soul by name:
A welcoming community of love.
And then the heart of the gathering glows:
My mother and father, my everything.
I visit treasured souls still at home on Earth
And seek their healing according to their needs.
Consciousness becomes tangible;
I push and guide it with my open hands,
Sending it to loved ones present and beyond;
I savor the heft of creation’s consciousness
Against my palms that are helping it to flow
On and on,
Circling the Universe.
I request insight and intuition.
A woman of African ancestry appears;
She is my age, and her hair is short and white;
I wonder if she is a guide
And ask her to be a friend.