The Place (from Whispers)

The Place

I was still five years old
and I lay there in the dark
still and quiet, wanting to be somewhere else.
And I went to a place I’d never been.
A place clear and cool yet warm and still and in motion too.
And white,
not just white on the surface but white clear through
and it felt good to look at it
and good to be there.
It seemed like a cave,
with high white walls melding into the ceiling of solid white air,
like a mist made of rock, translucent.
I raised my hand to touch it,
knowing it was out of reach,
yet feeling it was near at hand.
I was standing on a rock ledge and I started to cry.
‘cause I was safe,
but where I was I didn’t know.
I just knew it was a good place,
a safe place to cry.
God was here, everywhere.
This place was made of God,
I could almost see him moving in the mist rock.
I laid down and waited until I stopped crying
and my heart stopped pounding
and I could breathe without sobbing.
Too soon I knew it was time to go.
And then my leg was warm and shaking and a voice called my name
and I smelled the dust of the old church
and felt a hand on my leg and I was back.
But I would visit the cool clear, warm white place in my dreams
knowing peace was there
and God.

Angel (She flew)

Her name was Grace
or maybe that was just what she was.
Grace with the golden hair.
And she flew.
Everything about her was motion and flight,
and joy and love
and she came to me,
just me, nobody else.
To talk to me,
to play with me,
To tell me what a good boy I was,
how strong and good and loved.
She came to tell me it wasn’t my fault.
I hadn’t done anything wrong,
and one day soon I would go home
and not come back here ever again.
Those people down there wouldn’t do this to me anymore.
She told me I would soon go to a place
where no bad people would come to me ever again.
A place with cows and horses and lots of space
for little boys to play all alone and be safe.
And she flew and I think that she took me there
to see the cows and horses and stuff.
I remember looking down on them
from the night high above.
I maybe imagined that
when she told me all about the grass
and the fields and the animals and all the fun things to do,
in my new place, after the bad place I’d been.
And she flew, all the time,
but she made me feel all still and quiet and happy deep inside
not just on the outside.
She was Grace
and she was woman and mother
and I closed my eyes and melted in her arms
I hugged her and she felt like silk
and smelled like my mom
and she was all round and soft and solid
and I loved her, and maybe she never really went away,
‘cause I don’t remember missing her.
And now, when that wonderful stillness comes on me
I wonder if its her, telling me I’m OK.
That I’m still a good boy, strong and good.
And loved.
And it wasn’t my fault.