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This blog is more than an account of Near Death Experiences. It ponders in detail the tough questions of life. Who are you, and why are you here in this physical world? What happens when you die, and is there a judgment? However, most anything could appear here. This is not a news blog, archived posts are just as relevant as new posts. Check the boxes at the top of the page for the Contents, Contact, Forum and other links.

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Lonely

Send me your light
I can’t take more
heal my affright
help me ashore.

I drift along
lost in the storm
play me your song
I’m so forlorn.

Guide me to be
free from all doubt
loving as thee
always devout.

Angels above
sing me your song
teach me with love
I will be strong.

© 2021, Lekatt. All rights reserved.

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Snow

I reach my hands up to the sky,

The coolness of the wind invigorates my senses,

I let out a long and contented sigh.

The snow swirls and dances all around me like a grand orchestra,

I am caught up in a whirlwind of child-like delight and ecstasy,

As I watch nature unfold and let loose its full majesty.

The snowflakes find their way to rest all over me,

Giving me tiny little white flowers in my hair,

Making me feel like a beautiful winter snow queen.

The snow decorates the ground like sparkling fairy dust on the floor,

Making a soft blanket for the earth below,

Creating a beautiful white wonderland at the amazement of my soul.

Britney

© 2020 – 2021, Lekatt. All rights reserved.

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My True Home

Hello!

My name is Andy Harley. I’m 28-years-old
and from Frederick, MD.

As a small dedication to your nice site,
I would like to share with you a poem that
I’ve written entitled, “My True Home”.

MY TRUE HOME

Drawn into tangible darkness,
Rushing high speed through a tunnel.
I’m somewhere between two worlds
Spiraling like water through a funnel.

I see a pinpoint of light in the distance,
Growing larger the closer I get.
But for some strange reason I’m not afraid?
And see it not as being a threat.

Entering into a realm so soothing
Of radiant, golden-white light,
Peace and warmth pours over my spirit,
It’s so beautifully — beautifully bright.

Moving with the flow of fine silk,
My translucent body glows;
Like thousands of tiny diamonds
They sparkle and superimpose.

A floodgate of knowledge has been opened,
With infinite waves of love;
There’s a pageantry of dramatic colors here
That just could never be dreamed of?

I see miraculous mountains of deep blue velvet
And spectacular valleys galore;
A waterfall dazzles with clarity and life,
This Elysian area I’d love to explore!

Drifting next into a garden,
With swaying grass so crisp, cool, and green;
The luminescent flowers pulsate,
Their shades so completely serene;

I hear music playing of harmonic beauty
That rolls like a glassy river.
Enchanting, mystical tones,
That would make any man alive shiver.

Then suddenly, I see someone in the distance,
Coming towards me to reunite.
This whistling person’s emanating glow,
Is such a comforting and glorious sight?

When I can finally distinguish who it is,
I realize it’s my Grandpap Jack.
He tells me that it’s not yet my time,
And that I must now . . . go back.

I could stay an eternity at this divine place
From just these few things that I’ve been shown;
But I know one great day for sure I’ll be back,
Because I believe this is my true home.

I was given the wonderful opportunity of
having my book of 62 poems,
“Till The Dreaming’s Done: Poems
Crafted For Thinking People”
(ISBN 1-4137-8232-9) published this year,
and this is actually one of the poems
that can be found in my book.

I was wondering if you would ever
maybe consider posting my poem
somewhere … anywhere … on aleroy.com?
It would be an absolute honor for me to
share just this one thing of mine with
whole plethora of good people strewn
throughout this great big world of ours.
If you would possibly consider doing this
for me, I would be forever grateful.

All the best,

Andy Harley

(This poem is approximately 20 years old,
it was originally posted on my website.
I read it again after I wrote “Going Home”
and noticed the similarities.
The Spirit World is very real.)

© 2019, Lekatt. All rights reserved.

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The Skiff

Tipping over smooth rocks
she topped the steep gray cliff,
then falling through the air
I watched this ill-fated skiff.

Cold rushing crystal waters
availed to pull her down
towards sharp rocks below;
but she made nary a sound
heard over the waters flow.

My heart leaped for this
humble craft as she crashed
on granite stones below
lying near the shore mashed
into scattered bits of woe.

Then I heard the cries of alarm,
grief, and running feet
whence came this young boy
to fetch at the shipwreck
of his erstwhile favorite toy.

© 2019, Lekatt. All rights reserved.

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