To Hear The Angels Sing / Poem

Lost I was and descended into the dark underworld to find you,

Infact the shock of your body-death brought the underworld into me.

I descended into the unfathomable depths of grieving and of pain,

For hours, days and months it seemed like years of heartbreak would reign.

There was no more you, no way out and no refrain -

Until I saw your light, followed your star and found your love -

I found your love in my heart and I found my way home again.

For your love has always flourished deep within my heart-soul-spirit.

Looking outside of myself to find sign of you I could not see it,

Until from confused reason and broken heart I broke free,

From within, your love called to me -

I hear you now -

Each moment your love illumines my opened heart and spirit,

As I sit quietly reflecting on your countless delightful qualities,

Resonating with your energetic vibration the bliss within my heart,

Radiating with your loves joy and your loves light is where I start,

Beaming like a softer second Sun here in our garden -

Perhaps I should rename the garden A Tribute To Findhorn,

As your friends the plant Devas sing and dance about so glad to be here,

Comprised of light energy too subtle for human sight,

The small ones gamble and cavort gadding about with all of their might,

The wild violet and rhubarb Deva's, the welsh poppy and rue,

The tall and austere ones nod sagely and they smile warmly too,

The silver birch, hollyhock and hawthorn Deva's send their salutation to you -

In throngs among the thick abundant planting that you carried out here,

They perform a circle dance of goodwill and most wonderous soul uplifting cheer,

And as one they give you thanks for the love that you have bestowed,

For your tender nursing of their nurselings and gentle winding of their fronds,

Redirecting the vigorous young shoots to where they find best advantage,

Celebrating even the smallest of sweet wild strawberries in their enchantage,

The humblest of clovers with bright love now responds,

And the very most meek of mild mosses by the ponds -

Your garden sings in praises and gratitude for your gentle love still,

Rejoices for your kind and tender guidance, your divine loving will,

It simply shines with visible delight -

The plant Deva's and garden Angels awaken with much pleasure,

When your love touches my heart and I am uplifted into your onward living treasure,

As my worldly mind falls away and I open to your spirit,

My heart blinks from the deep sleep to the place where you are within it,

And glows so warm that you could cosy your hands across the non physical distance,

For your love so shared is the peak of my lifes existence,

This is your love restored -

Your love is holding space and presence lightly here within my heart,

Your love is thereby travelling into this world where I will make a start,

I will cherish your garden with gratitude and with guidance from the Deva's,

I will give my remaining days on Earth to share your Elf heart love with all,

I will carry out this devotion with my every hearts wherewithall,

For your love is my culmination and like a spiritual altar boy,

I will make upon this Earth a garden of our loving joy -

TitusL

This poem explores the fact that the angelic spirits, whom my beloved is now among, also devote themselves to look after nature and can therefore be found in and through a love of nature. This was her passion too while she occupied a physical body on the earth 🙏

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Our love journey seems to partly echo the tragic Greek love story of Orpheus and Eurydice, although with significant changes. In our case my beloved does sucessfully come back to me, although in her spiritual presence rather than physically.

More interesting however than the ancient thematic similarities however, is the rising awareness of the spirits that grows every day. I speak of the those who live as lightbodies, the etheric beings, angels, emanations of the divine life force of God, these I increasingly intuit. Through opening my heart to the presence of my beloved in her spirit, and facilitated by the confidence derived from reading of others so discovering the greater worlds all around us, I am learning to better perceive the joyful divine spirits and angelic presences that walk with us everyday.

To this end I warmly recommend Dorothy Maclean's lovely book To Hear The Angels Sing. 

She explains how she came to found Findhorn spiritual-ecological community and shares many messages from the overlighting plant Angels or Deva's as she calls them, that she met there by calming the mind and opening her heart spirit to 'hear' them. She is an inspiration to me and the messages from the plant Deva's are absolutely enchanting.

Here is an extract from one such account, from the

Landscape Angel at Findhorn Community, 19 May 1971;

I would tell you that now, never as before, great Cosmic Angels are reaching to touch the Earth in gentleness and beauty. They have done this before, but now the Earth, humanity, has stirred and opened to them. Their touch is wonderful. It may seem to come in the warmth of the sun, it may seem to come in the breeze, it may seem to stretch beyond beyond heaven itself - but it cannot come when you have doubts, fears, burdens, other limitations.

When you are yourself master of your conditions, you are one of us. When you are truly yourself then we can link up with the whole of the Earth for you are that Earth.

You, the Earth, are finding yourself in one universe where all are brothers; and as all become your brothers in yourt known world, an unknown world opens up in brotherhood. Then all of creation sings its song of joy and you hear it, first on Earth and then beyond. You hear that song now, as Nature greets the new day.

Do not doubt the delicate touch of the angels. Glory in it, open to it, and give thanks for it. It is God's hand reaching to you from this amazing universe, a consciousness. You were blind, now you see. From space, from all around, unbelievable beauty is coming to you.

Open yourself and meet it for it is to be.

Praise God.

* * * * * * * * 

Amen.

art co brigitte jost