Light on the Page

The perennial question about life after death is why the dead don’t try to communicate with us. A great deal of sadness attaches itself to this question. It is about closed doors, a loss of opportunity. But are we really listening? Do we hear the single voice rising above the crowd? Do we allow the silence to speak its mind? If we did we might notice it’s telling us about our own lives. Essentially it’s telling us that to live is still a choice. This might seem strange coming from the dead who, apparently, had no choice, but then who is in a better position to see that the chances and opportunities life offers are absolutely unique? No two people have the same chances. It is simply the opposite of being part of the crowd. And who is better placed to see that to miss those opportunities implies a lack of listening or seeing? The dead no longer have the choice, but they might well ask the question, why don’t we communicate with them, who have so much to say? Perhaps it’s because their words fall on deaf ears. Perhaps it’s because to raise yourself to listening means to accept the choices of life. It’s so easy to be misunderstood.

And really the dead need so little to express their love. The light of a flower is enough. And I in turn only need the power to speak with the silence poured from above. Our inner being defies such adjectives as dead or alive – it lives as one with both the seen and the unseen. Joined in the light and the silence we are able to speak with a voice that has always been there.

The Voice

Above the crowd I hear a single voice

and listen as the silence speaks its mind.

It tells me that to live is still a choice,

to take the chances no one else can find.

And no one but the dead can understand

the choice I make in talking to you now,

who may not see the world can be spanned

by silence and the voice which taught it how.

Joined

No more light than there is in a flower,

is all the dead need to express their love.

And I in turn only need the power

to speak with the silence poured from above.

Our being is neither dead nor alive

but lives as one with the seen and unseen.

Joined in the light and the silence we thrive

and speak with a voice that always has been.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

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