Rising, quivering,

Like a leaf about to fall from a tree,

At first unsure,

And yet wanting

To savour the freedom from the human shell,

Now struggling briefly with reflexes

That instinctively want to keep

The spirit enmeshed in the flesh

Of Life.



Waveringly pushing upward,

The etheric lights dancing all around,

Making mock

Of the wanting to be free,

And yet still wanting to be confined.

Resolution must be made to decide

Which it will be, if it can be.

Release is willed, and the Spirit

Lifts free.



Ever faster now

Spiraling, twisting around

To get a better view

Of that which cannot be seen

While trapped in the human shell.

The clouds flash by so quickly,

And Peace descends.

Quietude beyond belief,

Stars blinking back so knowingly,

Lovingly, at Peace.


But the call of the flesh once again

Binds that which is not finished

The work that it must do

In the mundane Sphere of Life.

Pulling back,

Tugging gently on the Silver Cord,

The vision of what was, and is,

Ever there for us to be,


The dance is complete.

Dictated through Sheila M. Street

July 5, 1981

Copyright 1981 and 2006

Sheila M. Street


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