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.
“Early each day to the steps of Saint Paul’s
The little old bird woman comes
In her own special way to the people
She calls, “Come, buy my bags full of crumbs”
Come feed the little birds, show them you care
And you’ll be glad if you do
Their young ones are hungry, their nests are so bare
All it takes is tuppence from you”
“Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag
Feed the birds”, that’s what she cries
While overhead, her birds fill the skies
All around the cathedral, the saints and apostles
Look down as she sells her wares
Although you can’t see it, you know they are smiling
Each time someone shows that he cares
Though her words are simple and few
“Listen, listen”, she’s calling to you
“Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag”
Though her words are simple and few
“Listen, listen”, she’s calling to you
“Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.”
Now when I lay me down to die,give no pity, feel no sorrow.There is no need for one to cry
‘cause I won’t be here tomorrow.I’ve lived life for a long, long time,learning to do what’s good and right.I’ve made me mark, written me rhyme,I'm set to take that final flight.I’ve touched the hem of death before,by heart attack I ceased to be.I’ve seen another distant shore,through me face-to-face NDE¹.
The spirit world is golden light, filled with care, compassionate love.Its total blessing hugs you tight,leaving no doubt you’re part thereof.The Park² has opulent green grass,dotted with brilliant rainbow flowers,tables, and chairs like polished brassa place to couch for endless hours.Deep blue water flows in small stream,ponds with fountains create a breeze.Around The Park’s utmost extreme,are dwellings built for all to please.Crystal buildings house libraries,for the pursuit of all knowledge.Rooms of learned commentaries,more than any earthly college.A Hall of Records³ contains the past,the deeds of all souls ever been,for us to know, from first to last,a worthy work kept safe therein.Museums, mansions, field for games,schools for keeping me reverent.
"Like earth it seems to be the same,yet it is very different¹¹.”I could be someone's spirit guide²²,to help them navigate their life.I might play watcher³³ on the side,helping the gifted with their strife.Many, many roles to choose from,much work of love to carry through.I could pose an effort outcome,and then relax, let love accrue.Everywhere light, the source of love,permeating bright through and through.Bringing compassion from above,love and caring for me and you.Naught to serve, everywhere to serve,naught to learn, everything to learn,freedom of choice that all deserve,the greatest gift of life to earn.So when I lay me down to die,grieve for thyself, I will not roam,we shall meet again, in the bye, not to worry, I’m going home.
Lekatt
¹Near Death Experience.²Mentioned in multiple NDEs.³Akashic Records.¹¹Emmanuel Quote²²Each person in the physical has
a spirit guide helper.³³Watchers look for the gifted
and help them.
The near death experience information
in this poem taken from my experience
as well as hundreds of other NDEs.
