Tuesday, November 05, 2019
The Messenger––poem by Dorothy
The Messenger
Yes, I know,
I volunteered for this assignment.
Instructions were sewn into my spine
so I would know what to do.
I was sent to the middle realm,
the place where things
have substance and heft.
I was given to parents
who were kind
but did not recognize me.
It was difficult
to be a child among others
who were so very different
from who I was.
It took me many years
to understand all this.
Kundalini was the mode,
the teacher, the one who
told me my true name,
gave me messages
pointing the way.
I did the best I knew how
to share with the others,
the unawakened ones
yearning to be stirred.
I used poetry, speaking,
books.
I wanted them to know
that they too were composed
of light, of music–– their
corpuscles and cells were
singing to them
night and day.
I did not attempt to open them
too abruptly, but encouraged
each one to be inspired
and find their own path,
lotus unfolding.
I had many unseen helpers
guiding me on,
helping me through the
many (but minor) challenges of health,
or when my heart
was so often broken
in this unfamiliar realm.
At first it was very lonely.
I had no real human companions
or mentors, and I did not trust those
who sat on thrones and proclaimed
a single truth.
Finally, I saw great changes
in my world
as authentic teachers arose,
groups banded together
to accomplish essential goals,
new means of communication
emerged.
I will be leaving soon.
All I can offer now
is my blessings,
my wishes for a continuing
smooth transition on earth
as the new species emerges.
Others will carry on
this necessary work.
I will watch with gratitude
from the some other place.
It is possible that if I am needed,
I may return.
Difficult as it is,
I like it here
and would in fact accept another assignment.
Something somewhere
wanted me to say these words.
Dorothy Walters
November 1, 2019
