I hate that you were a product of times gone by; a commodity, a puppet in a rock and roll theater. I wish that now you were reborn and being the creative creature you were meant to be. i hate that Life proved too much for you back then, i hope that now you are back you can be free and without pain x to Elvis

There's something in the air this time of year.
We take stock of our past and pray well for goodness to follow into the new year.

We celebrate our mid-winter festivities any way we choose and allow our fellow men to do what they will in celebration also.

Do not hurt anyone.
Do not look down on your brother.
Do not look for people and possessions to make you happy.
Happiness is the way your Soul was when you were born into this world. Remember the giggles of babes and cry with joy.

A new start beckons all of us who may have made mistakes last year.
A new day dawns for those who realise the potential in your power to create your reality.

Dream with power.
Weild power with Love for All.
May the All bless you, greatly and beautifully this season.
x

So, the Universal Life Force which I took to be god, is after all not the same as god. The Universal Energy is Love for All and not an entity in itself but a mass of all that is. God is an entity, some may not like me saying so but it is man-made. Yes, it is big, but only as big as all the humans which subscribe to its’ existence. God is real, as are other entities which we create in our daily lives. But god does not create, we do, the Universe does, through us. Whether we pray to god and ask it our whims and fancies or not, we are the ones who create those whims and fancies.

The whole world knows by now, we create our own reality.
What you believe is what you’ll get. And if you believe in god an entity, that is what you’ll see, or have faith in, but it, god, like any other creation or entity, only has what power we feed it with; be that good or not so good; our given energy is eaten up by the entity.
Some have called devils or demons that which we create as opposed to what god creates. Probably because most people put all good creations in the hand of their god, but also because it was understood that we do literally create beings and entities of our selves, we were scared to recognise the fact.
The truth is, devils, if that’s what you want to call a man-made entity, are neither good nor evil; the same goes; only the energy you feed it makes it who it is.
If a thing is discovered, a life of its’ own, an energy opposing your own, the natural tendency towards such is just ignorant fear; which the thing grows on and so self perpetuating it goes on.

When we pray, then, (if we so feel we should) we should only pray that the Light of the Universe would shine through our every thought and deed. The Light being the life force and Love so elusive at times. We should pray that what we create as the days go by, be of benefit to as many people as possible and for the higher good of All.

I don’t believe that the Universe needs worshipping. But if you chanced upon a delicately beautiful flower in the midst of a great and breathing forest, stopping to admire and wonder at the amazement of such treasures is within even the hardest heart and fully human in response.
Gods only need worshipping because they know their nature - they need belief to survive and to be. But what they are these days is limited; limited by the tiny minds of men who cannot make miracles anymore.

Prayer for Perfection

I see a perfect world - we have built a lot of crap onto it in our time, but underneath it all there is perfection. We just have to ditch the illusions, ie, the power-crazed delusional leaderships, who assume they have power and control over the masses, but really do not - if only the masses would see through this - we are our own person - ie, the undermining health services which promote illness and feed themselves fat on other people’s diseases, which are auto-suggestions only, and manufactured maladies, for sale or rent - illusions, created by spiritual deficiency.

Think healthy, be healthy.
Think me ill, i'll reject your imagining and replace it with my own.
And those others with any notion of doing the right thing - give their personal power willingly to a religion which serves also to control their aspirations and their direction - in the perfect world, we all do what we think is right at the time - we consider the consequences of our actions and show genuine, temporary remorse for our mistakes and mishaps; but we learn from them, and have no negative lasting regret - we look out for each other - we care about the homeless, who are no less fortunate than the homed but that they are freer; we do not let them go hungry. In the perfect world, we work because we enjoy it, we serve people because we like being useful, our human nature tells us it is good to be useful. I see a perfect world. May the All see it too.

I LIVE

IN an Anomally
and when i find my way
back to you, ( god!?)
I'll find out how i got here
x

In the wilderness

Of forty years, no god guided me That i found water in mine own tears
I followed the Whispering wind
and in my Mind
it's name
came
and didn't that same wind bring rain upon me
for my love
i would drown

No end to the end

There were four walls and a bed - nothing beyond that at all. A vast, massive nothing outside...a lone planet, far away from Earth.
Earth was empty - no life anymore. Can't say I'm completely sorry.
Christmas had promised a new beginning but what could come of it, now that none of the population believed in Father Christmas?

I was alone, on that planet - that was nice, new and novel to me. Quite glad to be here, if truth be known.
I sat on the edge of the bed, noticing the last, precious remains of so-called Life on Earth as i knew it; two friends with me. One in the shape of a portrait painstakingly painted to perfection....and another, hand-written, editted, typed and meticulously metaphored into magical momentos, bound hard and trapped in a biographical 400 page book.

Look at you there, forever, doomed to peer out from your prisons - the frame of one, beheaded, alas, and the shiny, titled, photograph bearing sheath of the other....and i - alone at the end of infinity...no Earth, no wealth, no food nor fear..nothing...how exhilarating, after a moment or two. How positively beautiful to find myself so....free! Not a care in the world.
But for the seeming passing of said world - and the fact that not much remains of my two only remaining 'friends'.
Sober, i was, i might add, as even i tell you now that the picture looked at me, the more i looked at it...and then raised an eyebrow in my direction.
Odd, i thought. Yes. Did you just move?
I turned my attention once more to the cover of the book, and its personage shuffled and gave a noncommital shrug of the shoulders and an upturned palm.
Animation; absolutely.
What then? My lovely friends of the end of the Earth.
So what? The reply...it was only a matter of time, before we would be freed from our folly, our getting stuck like this, in a photo, or in a frame - decapitated.
Yes, er, gravely sorry about that. What can I do?
Nothing to do - it's the end - all's well that ends well - couldn't be more delighted - to live on, do you see? In the hearts of others or in the pages of a book - if it's all the same to you it's all the same, do you see? Besides from finding a new Father Christmas- someone believeable this time - there's nothing to be done...isn't that wonderful news?
yes, yes it is - i'm enjoying this already. My god, talking objects, i didn't know this could happen?
Nor did I. Till now. Thank you, what's your name again?
Leaf.
Oh yes. And have you seen those fellows before?

I looked where was pointed, by the bedside cupboard, and gradually into focus appeared tiny folk - faeries.
Amazement, wonder, gladfulness and awe consumed my entire being as i observed, for some hours maybe, the toing and froing and comings and goings of those shy, industrious, timid, busy little persons, whom i had read about but never had seen.
They worked in an ethereal world.
There were some wispy, flimsy objects which they made their business with and some seemed idle if not care free, in their realm.
A broarder ethereal realm then became visible to me for the first time - i could see the strands of time and existence linked and joined as luminous, colorful, spider-web threads, resting on and stretching effortlessly between every item and object within the four walls of the room.
I picked up the book from the bed and placed it on the chair, noticing the strands stretch and break over the distance. i waited to note any re-attachment, but there was none; i was puzzled.
Seeing the carpeted floor, the strands and threads could be described as almost grass-like, but floating, weightless, colored blue and deep pink, like a sun-set on Skye.
I wanted to feel them; the grassy, cobwebby threads, so i began gathering what i could in my hands. First from the chair, then from the floor.
The strands broke from their places, an abundance of them covering everywhere. And in my hands i could see them as clear and as real as the everyday objects they were joined to - but i felt nothing. There were tangles where the strands were broken and fallen, and there were reams and handfulls of them in my hands or on my open palm as i looked, but could not feel any substance.
As the physical, heavy, material world imposed its overbearing mass on me as is usual, the scene and the ether drifted back into the unseen and invisible division of my awareness.
It was no more.
No faeries. No threads of relativity.
Just a hospital ward, and a psychiatrist to humour!