I'll not wait till its too late to tell
you how I feel,
and never waste a moment our
love is very real,

I'll not waste the time that's left
over things that said
and done,
the laughs we had in times gone
bye,
we sure did have some fun,

So I give my hand in friendship
and the love that brothers share,
Its just to say I love you and to
let you know I care.


by Ian Hudson

 The Spirit Messenger
 Touch of a hand,a wipe of a tear.
 A message from spirit to know they're here
 To reach out to those in need
 To bring relief to those who grieve.
 To touch a heart,to bring a smile
 To bring upliftment ,once in a while.
 A message from God,he knows you suffer so
 He sends among us ,angels
 To help when your'e low
 Believe theres more to life then this
 its where our love ones go and its signed with a Kiss
 So dont say Goodbye,I speak the truth
 I do not lie.....
 I am the messenger from God.......
 
Author Christina Green  
 

 

The Great Invocation

From the point of Light within the Mind of God
Let light stream forth into the minds of men.
Let Light descend on Earth.

From the point of Love within the Heart of God
Let love stream forth into the hearts of men.
May Christ return to Earth.

From the centre where the Will of God is known
Let purpose guide the little wills of men –
The purpose which the Masters know and serve.

From the centre which we call the race of men
Let the Plan of Love and Light work out
And may it seal the door where evil dwells.

Let Light and Love and Power restore the Plan on Earth.

THE GIFT

I send you love, I send you light,

A sun-kissed day, a moonlit night,

A peaceful heart, freedom from fear,

Courage to help you through the year.

I send you faith, I send you hope,

The warmth of friends, the strength to cope,

Reasons to laugh, the right to cry,

The will to keep your head held high.

I send you comfort, restful sleep,

Understanding and self belief,

A hand to hold, a caring word,

A listening ear, a voice that’s heard.

I send you calmness, I send you health,

Tranquil moments, time for yourself.

Appreciation, credit due,

For all you are and all you do.

Taken from Newsletter 50 -  The Edgar Cayce Centre, Co. Durham.     Author Unknown.

An Angel walked the Beat Tonight

 A drunk man in an Oldsmobile
 They said had run the light
 That caused the six-car pileup
 On 109 that night.
 
 When broken bodies lay about
 And blood was everywhere,
 The sirens screamed out eulogies,
 For death was in the air.
 
 A mother, trapped inside her car,
 Was heard above the noise;
 Her plaintive plea near split the air:
 Oh, God, please spare my boys!"
 
 She fought to loose her pinned hands;
 She struggled to get free,
 But mangled metal held her fast
 In grim captivity.
 
 Her frightened eyes then focused
 On where the back seat once had been,
 But all she saw was broken glass and
 Two children's seats crushed in.
 
 Her twins were nowhere to be seen;
 She did not hear them cry,
 And then she prayed they'd been thrown free,
 Oh, God, don't let them die!"
 
 Then firemen came and cut her loose,
 But when they searched the back,
 They found therein no little boys,
 But the seat belts were intact.
 
 They thought the woman had gone mad
 And was travelling alone,
 But when they turned to question her,
 They discovered she was gone.
 
 Policemen saw her running wild
 And screaming above the noise
 In beseeching supplication,
 Please help me find my boys!

 They're four years old and wear blue shirts;
 Their jeans are blue to match."
 One cop spoke up, "They're in my car,
 And they don't have a scratch.
 
 They said their daddy put them there
 And gave them each a cone,
 Then told them both to wait for Mom
 To come and take them home.
 
 I've searched the area high and low,
 But I can't find their dad.
 He must have fled the scene,
 I guess, and that is very bad."
 
 The mother hugged the twins and said,
 While wiping at a tear,
 He could not flee the scene, you see,
 For he's been dead a year."
 
 The cop just looked confused and asked,
 Now, how can that be true?"
 The boys said, "Mommy, Daddy came
 And left a kiss for you."
 
 He told us not to worry
 And that you would be all right,
 And then he put us in this car with
 The pretty, flashing light.
 
 We wanted him to stay with us,
 Because we miss him so,
 But Mommy, he just hugged us tight
 And said he had to go.
 
 He said someday we'd understand
 And told us not to fuss,
 And he said to tell you, Mommy,
 He's watching over us."
 
 The mother knew without a doubt
 That what they spoke was true,
 For she recalled their dad's last words,
 I will watch over you."
 
 The firemen's notes could not explain
 The twisted, mangled car,
 And how the three of them escaped
 Without a single scar.
 

 But on the cop's report was scribed,
 In print so very fine,
An angel walked the beat tonight on Highway109.

SOUNDS FAMILIAR

Just a line to say I’m living, that I’m not among the dead,

Though I’m getting more forgetful and mixed up in my poor head.

I’ve got used to my arthritis, to my dentures I’m resigned,

I can cope with my bifocals, but….ye gods….I miss my mind.

Sometimes I can’t remember when I’m standing by the stair,

If I’m going up for something or have just come down from there.

And before the fridge so often, my mind is full of doubt,

Did I put some dried up food away or come to take some out?

So, remember I do love  you and wish that you lived near,

And now it’s time to send this note, a second time my dear.

For when I stood beside the box, my mind must have been dead,

For instead of posting it to you, I took it home instead!

Taken from the Edgar Cayce Centre Durham   Newsletter 49.

The Billionaires.

I am a girl who sells herself to buy some crack cocaine,

I am the land mine victim, who’ll never walk again,

I’m a mother in many lands who’s watched her children die,

I’m a child who’s begging on streets, I’m not allowed to cry.

I am a nuclear worker, whom cancer’s come to claim,

I’m someone who can’t read or write,  I’m crippled by my shame.

I’m a carpet factory worker, who works fifteen hours a day,

I’m a child who toils in sweatshops for a few rupees of pay.

I am one of countless millions, and still without a voice.

Still forced to live a half-life and don’t even have a choice,

A tidal wave of misery, that’s flowing strong and deep,

With open eyes, just look at me, and don’t pretend to sleep.

Can you learn to take a little less and give a little more?

Can I come into your warm front room, not wait outside your door?

Can I come into your consciousness, in the choices that you make?

Can you learn to love me just a bit, and let me share your cake?

Could we gaze at one another, two sides of the same face

And bridge the gap between us and heal the human race?

For I’m tired of being silent, of never making waves,

I’m your brother and your sister, I’m a billion modern slaves.

Taken from the Edgar Cayce Centre Newsletter 46 which gives thanks to Jane Norman and to Universal World Harmony for these verses.

Its only a smile

Come on everybody smile

End the happiness exile

Remember everything life taught you

And not what it didn’t but what it bought you

So you may not have everything

Just listen to me while I sing

Remember all the fears and tears

That came and went throughout the years

They made you laugh and made you cry

Sometimes you didn’t even know why

But lifes not about feeling pain

Knock that thought out of your brain

Just make sure that you enjoy your day

In your own individual kind of way

Every time you wake up breathing

You better carry on believing

In yourself and that you are great

I believe in you so don’t leave it too late

Scars of the Heart

Barren is the heart that has known no suffering

Empty is the soul that has known no pain

Lonely is the man who has not known loss

Shallow is the man who lives just for gain.

Dry are the eyes that have not shed teardrops

Feeble is the faith that has not known hope

Bitter is the mind that has not known failure

Weak are the arms that cannot envelop

mankind in an embrace of truth and love

Mighty is the soul that has lived through loss

Huge is the heart that has once been broken

Noble is the spirit that does not count the cost.

Scars of the flesh make our bodies weary

But scars of the flesh are soon to heal.

Scars of the heart help us see more clearly

Scars of the heart are what make life real.

Lynn Salter.  (Copyright)

Hop Cottage  1.12.93.

 N.B.  This is one of many poems by Lynn contained in  two large files .    She has an extraordinary gift and can sit in Circle in darkness and just write these poems at great speed – they seem to “flow” from her and must be coming direct from Spirit.    Lynn has given these poems to Maidstone Spiritual Development Centre and we are of the opinion that they ought to be published.     If anyone has any ideas on how we could go about this, please contact us at msdc@msdc.org.uk  - in the meantime, we will put them on the website periodically.   This poem comes from the first book “Writings from Hop Cottage”.

WHAT IS STRENGTH

What is strength?  Is it the physical power

 To move a mountain peak?

Or is it the will of one man to climb over it

Yet no word of complaint to speak?

What is this force, this power inside us,

That wills us to go on beyond what we can bear?

This strength, this faith, this knowing

That makes us face what others would not dare.

The trust that we may walk in darkness

To tread the path where others nightmares leave

It is a faith that goes beyond mortal trusting

It is a knowing, a knowledge in which you all believe.

The truth becomes the light that guides you

The sword that you keep safe at hand

It’s strength and power will never leave you

It is your courage when you choose to make a stand

The light and wisdom that gives you words

When others mouths have long since become dry

Your arms of comfort, hands of blessing,

That wipe the tears whilst others cry.

Brave soldiers of the light you have the blessing

Of warrior strength and sacred wisdom too.

It is the burden of spiritual knowledge

A lonely road that we must give to you.

But the strength will never leave you

To give solace to those in need.

So take heart and listen to the joyful calling

Of the once sad and suffering souls that you have freed.

Lynn Salter.  (Copyright)

Hop Cottage  14.12.93.

 N.B.  This is one of many poems by Lynn contained in  two large files .    She has an extraordinary gift and can sit in Circle in darkness and just write these poems at great speed – they seem to “flow” from her and must be coming direct from Spirit.    Lynn has given these poems to Maidstone Spiritual Development Centre and we are of the opinion that they ought to be published.     If anyone has any ideas on how we could go about this, please contact us at msdc@msdc.org.uk  - in the meantime, we will put them on the website periodically.   This poem comes from the first book “Writings from Hop Cottage”.

Soulmates

Somewhere in the darkest night there shines a star

In the depth of gloom all is not lost

I scan the darkness wondering where you are

Your spirit soars so freely since you crossed

Your burdens dropped you are no longer crushed

By worries of the world that I inhabit

Into our loved ones’ arms you swiftly rushed

So glad to sense that you had finally found it

You’d reached the place of peacefulness and love

The place you yearned for all your time on earth

So you will never have to work to prove

Yourself to others now God knows your worth

For you were such a shining light down here

I miss your presence in the here and now

Yet I have learnt to suffer all this care

Because you are still with me everywhere

You’re in my dreams, you’re in my heart

You’re in my very soul

As soul-mates we will never part

Two halves together make us whole.

Marian Reader   2003  Copyright.

If you have a poem or inspired piece of writing you would like
to share with others, please send it to msdc@msdc.org.uk
and we will publish anything we think suitable.