The Aquarian Revelations – Part Eight
The silver trumpets rang across the Dome.
The people knelt upon the ground with awe
And borne upon the necks of men I saw,
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,
And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,
Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:
In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.
My heart stole back across wide wastes of years
To One who wandered by a lonely sea
And sought in vain for any place of rest:
‘Foxes have holes and every bird its nest,
I, only I, must wander wearily,
Bruise my feet and drink wine salted with tears.’
1854 – 190
In the year 2019 I am greeting you from the world of light.
I rejoice because the sad part of humankind’s
Evolutionary journey I described in my poem
Is drawing to its natural close.
It’s good to know that Jesus never was a historical figure,
So never had to walk with bruised feet and
Drink his wine salted with tears.
He is a thoughtform that was created by
God and the Angels for taking us closer to the
Discovery that every human being
Consists of a lower earthly part and
A higher Christ or God one
Whose symbol Jesus always has been.
My heart sings with joy that it is waking
From its slumber in ever more of you earthlings.
And that is the Resurrection all of us in the spirit realm
With all my love and best wishes for you and your loved ones
at Easter time and always.
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