All through history, truth seekers use poetry and prose to convey deep truths. It is as if the rhythm and passion written in the moment of deep longing are a trail of bread crumbs to higher consciousness. So many are desiring truth but because of the everyday battles of survival, they may not have the capacity to search inwardly. The path to truth is not made easy and it can be strewn with pain, blockages and discouragement.
Children of the Universe is a book depicting the journey to truth I have taken. In the darkest times, my only comfort was taking pen to paper and writing an SOS to the Universe. The poems in this book are me calling out in pain for relief from the insanity. Often, the poems represent the answers that the Universe gives me.
The book is called The Children of the Universe because it was told to me that once you create something and send it out into the collective consciousness, it is no longer yours to own. You have birthed it, and it is important to send it out into the Universe without a hold on it.
All through my life, there were times when this rhythmic state would come over me as a certain charged phrase came to me. If I sat down to pen and paper, a whole complete experience would spill out. This is one poem that came through when I was seventeen. I was feeling so desperately lonely and wanted so much to have friends. I didn’t realize at the time how completely odd and isolated I was. No one around me seemed to notice either. I shared the following poem with my mother and it never occurred to her that I could be in pain. She marveled at the poem but scrutinized whether I needed to use the world “Hell” or not. I did need to.
I’m Me
I don’t have delicate features
Or long slender bones
I don’t have musical talents
‘Cant tell the different tones
I don’t have grace and elegance
I talk a little funny
I don’t have an occupation
So don’t earn that much money
I’m not an easy learner
Never earned a degree
But then again so one is perfect
And, what the Hell. I’m me
