I was in my Geo Storm,
But it was my sisters some how,
We where in our homeland,
Ended up at the corner of me preachers yard,
So them and I,
We got out,
We walked into the preachers house,
But what do ya know,
It wasnt his home,
But we still went through,
To see if we knew,
Who it was,
That made the move,
So through the front door,
We did walk in,
My sisters went their way,
To start looking,
But I was stopped just pass the front door,
There was a stairway to my right,
It wasn’t there before,
And the heaviest of music,
Was being played,
But the words where so beautifully,
Defined, in a pure word kind of way,
So then I was confused,
At who’s home I was at,
I didnt know where my sister,
Wondered to at that,
So I go back outside,
And make my way,
Under the tin roof,
That is above the drive way,
Suddenly the day turned to night,
And I found it not right,
But what immediately caught my attention,
Was a golden cross of light,
And that I could actually feel it,
The light that is,
That beamed like the sun,
Through the clouds,
On a cloudy day,
I could actually touch and feel,
The light beams with my hands,
It had a mass in someway,
I would move my hand in and out of it,
It would tingle,
As my hand passed through it,
Now this cross where this touchable light was emanating from,
Was to my left and it began to move up and to its right into a different form,
Awed at the brilliance of this touchable light,
It turned into the sun,
I started to feel such a delight,
At what was going on,
But as I was playing with this light,
That beamed light of mass,
I looked right before me,
With my heart in a gasp,
But what was right before me,
Could have been Heaven,
I dont know,
But let me go on with the story,
And you depict what I was shown,
In the center of this live picture,
Was a fountain spring of water,
That sprang from the top,
Into a small pool,
Then into two more,
Each one was just a little bit larger,
Then the top one that came before,
Now the bottom pool,
Which would be the fourth,
Was made out of blocks of the purest of gold,
Three layers high about to my knees I would say,
Somewhere in that height,
I’m sure you can see,
But missing one block,
On the top that was facing my way,
Now what came through this missing block,
Of the finest gold,
Was the water that gathered,
In the fourth pool I’ve told,
It smoothly and gently overflowed,
Into this perfectly constructed stream,
In the midst of the sidewalk,
And it too was made of the premium of gold,
The ever so gently flowing stream,
Was moving strait forward and,
Just a tad bit to the right of my being,
Now looking strait forward,
The spring in the heart,
Running parallel to both sides of the sidewalk,
Was the oldest of wooden fences,
I would say about eight or nine feet tall,
Between the sidewalk and the fences,
Was freshly cut grass,
Four feet wide,
And who knows the extent of,
Scattered about touching the fences,
Where these handsome antique park benches,
Yet to be true to my memories sake,
I only recall seeing one on each side,
Of the sidewalk that day,
But know they where all up and down,
The sidewalk for people to converse,
And sit upon in the day,
And to the front and right of me,
Just before one of the benches,
Was a lamb or a sheep,
I dont know how to differentiate this,
But it was peacefully eating,
The freshly cut grass,
Totally undisturbed,
About what was going on here,
In this live picture,
Of touchable light mass,
On both sides,
To my left and to my right,
Behind the fences there where trees,
And vines at full bloom,
Branching over the fences,
But now I shall describe,
One of the most important,
There was a clean cut man,
In a white robe on my right,
And to his right he was opened armed,
As a gesture to partake,
From the water that sprang,
In the center of this,
Live moving lights of mass,
Touching picture,
It was as he was telling me,
It’s yours for the taken,
But his lips did not move,
He simply posed the open gesture,
With a smile and never did he flicker,
I couldnt believe what I was seeing,
As well what was being offered,
Then as that thought came too,
Thats when every thing started to fold,
I’m now back again under the tin,
Of the drive way,
Jumping to the grass,
Which moved in an earth quack,
And the ground moved in waves,
I scream for my sisters to flee for the car,
Which was parked at the corner,
Of my old preachers yard,
And as I was pulling my way to the same,
There was no way of standing,
For the earth was moving,
As I said in waves,
The grass and dirt I was a gripping,
But as I’m making my way,
To meet with my sisters,
A voice from nowhere,
But from everywhere,
Had spoke this,
I had no choice but to listen,
Stop seeking to save your life,
But rather seek after life,
I heard these words very clearly,
But still making my way to meet,
My sisters in the hopes that they too,
Would make out alright,
In the earth waving quacking blizzard,
We did meet rather quickly,
And I would say that we where safe,
But my car that was my sisters,
Was not what we had found,
It was and old beat up pickup truck,
That we jumped in safe and sound,
But at that very moment,
Came out from the dark sky,
A little bitty flying golden lion,
Just a little bit bigger than my hand,
And it was alive,
It flew into the pickup truck,
My sisters and I where amazed,
But Im still dumbstruck,
From the words I heard,
And from where it came,
Yet hovering right before us,
This live golden lion,
It made its posture like the Sphinx,
But bowed its head to its feet,
And the back of this golden lion,
Became a flashing jeweled platform,
With menus to choose a path for,
Ones living or prayer of supplying,
Both my sisters grabbed a menu,
Their fingers run down the choices,
As I was still completely confused,
And amused,
I was in a quietude of state,
Wile they made up there preferences,
They placed the menus back upon,
The living golden lions wishing plate,
It then before our very eyes,
Sprouted wings and took of in flight,
My sisters both delighted in their choosing,
One started the truck,
And we started moving,
And I made no choice,
But silence,
It really wasn’t my choice to choose,
There where only two menus,
My task, prayer, wish, or what it be,
Had already been made for me,
Then I come to a dark room,
Where through the window,
Shown the blue moon,
I pondered on what just happened,
And couldn’t go back to sleep,
Because my soul was shaken,
On what I just finished happening,
This here story I tell,
Is a true one,
What it necessarily means,
I have my own interpretation,
But I can just bet,
Between the both you and I,
The interpretation,
Will be the same one…

Ryan Brady OReilly
2001