Sunday, June 23, 2013

The Soul of Me

Doux Reves
Sweet Dreams
By Firmin Baes

The Soul of Me

Oh, Mother,
The soul of me!
The first angel on Earth
I see;
In my home,
Thy beloved womb
You've given
All nurture & love full-bloom;
Gratitude springs
From my Spirit heart;
I picked you, Darling, from the start;
We are held by God,
The very heavens;
So we grow together:
Midst Angel feathers;
Thus I’m blowing kisses
Even before I’m born
I’m yours forever,
And ever more.

©2013 Connie Nelson Ahlberg
All Rights Reserved.

Friday, June 14, 2013

Taking Shape: Skies over Blue Spruce

NASA image V380 Orionis within
Reflection Nebula NGC 1999

He said who are you today?
And she answered:
I am Tevye!
I am Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof--
who has lost a sister
and rails at God
for taking her
and causing her 
to suffer;
So let me rant, 
I say!
What do you take me for,
a fool?
 I am not a fool;
I see all the suffering
as if my eyes were Yours;

but after my 
stream of words I kneel
by a blue spruce

like the ones 
in her yard 
overlooking the lake, 
You see,
Both she and the trees
grew together,
but now there's 
just the trees

And she is a star--
and my rant
turned to tears
and my breath 
breathed in
the awe
in the night.

Monday, June 10, 2013

Not An Ending, but a Continuance

Ascension of Christ

I've been absent from my blog as a beloved family member has been very ill. Now she has flown up. I say flown up vs died as I think it more aptly describes what happens to such a wondrous spirit.

In one of my books a nephew who happens to be a physician, sits at his aunt's bedside as her life comes to an end. He sees a form rise from the bed and lengthen into an elongated shape. Then the shape shifts again into an upright or sitting position. He can make out a the face of his aunt. She is smiling. Her face is Luminous.

I love stories like that. After sitting by an aunt's bedside before she died/flew up, I asked a nurse if she had ever seen a shape rise from the bed. She said no, but I know nurses who have.

My favorite, or one of my favorite, other stories of after-death communication is about a man with Alzheimer's who is in a near-vegetative state. Fifteen years had passed since his children last heard his voice. The man and his two sons are watching a football game. Their father is seated in a chair where his sons can watch him. 

The mother of of the boys bids them good-bye; she is off to the grocery store. They know what to do to take care of their dad.

Suddenly they see their father - looking very ashen, topple out of his chair and onto the floor. The eldest brother says: Quick, call 911, to his younger brother.

Then a voice they hadn't heard in 15 years says: No son, don't call 911. I'll be okay. Tell your mother I love her. 

The youngest son ends up pursuing a medical career as a heart specialist. He said there was nothing in a scan of his father's brain that would give credence to the fact that this man still possessed the cognitive abilities to speak at the time of his death. 

To me this isn't the "typical" (indeed if there are typical) movements or speech a dying person may utter or perform a bit beyond their current capabilities. This goes beyond a burst of energy before a life "ends." Some will call it bias, but I feel the father's soul spoke in a consciousness beyond the brain. 

If there is no logical medical explanation, what did happen? I feel his soul spoke.

When my mother died suddenly in 1995 I confess I wondered: Where did she go--her precious life essence? Did she get where she was going? And, how will I know? Then five years later, in the wee hours of the morning while I was between sleep and wakefulness, I heard my mother's voice telepathically. She called me by a nickname only she used. 

The date was May 10th, her birthday, five years after she died. I called my dad and said with tears: It's happened! I heard mother's voice! When it happened, my body went into an instant near-electrical charge of awareness.

And, no, I wasn't engulfed in grief over my mother at the time. A long time after that, I stumbled upon a speech I gave to a grief group in the winter of the same year before I heard my mother's voice. I had written--my mother hasn't gone this long without calling me. I remembered saying it, with the words in front of me on the page as a reminder.

I smiled, enjoying the whole spiritual if my mother had "called" to prove me wrong!