Who am I really?
When I was but a child
poetry and stories I did write
Visions filled my mind
Energies filled places I had no names for
But I felt them
I described them
Though I had no knowledge of their words
Always I wrote as if
It was me
I was the Heroine
Make Yourself The Hero
Don't a lot of writers do that??
Now I look back
And realize
I was tapped in.
Into the Divine
Into the Spirit Worlds
Concepts Leap off the pages
I knew then
I was writing to some one in the future
It was me
But what did I want to tell Myself??
I race across old words to find their hidden meanings:
A girl was born who would change the ways of the World
A girl was born with a gift of the mind that she would bring to humanity
She knew that she was here for a purpose.
There was within her the beginning of a new race of super beings.
Each are from different papers and handwritings
Each are about me
Each is a piece of a
Mystery?
Who am I?
Who am I supposed to be?
I was channeling.
But what?
The meaning is either hidden
Or Blatantly written there so plainly
That I am missing it.?
Of course it could all be nothing.
Says the pragmatic Adult
Don't be so Egotistical
Says the one who fears being called a Megalomaniac.?
What if, just what if?
I were no one special
BUT
What if, what if?
In spite of that I could be?
That because of my desire to bring about something great
I became great in the process??
God is always Speaking
Not everyone is Listening
The ones who became great
Are the ones who were Listening
They dared to believe
God was speaking to them.?
I am Listening.
I am Daring to believe
That its not just my imagination.
Who am I?
No one special.
But I Listen,
And I Believe
What I am Hearing
What I am Seeing
What I am Feeling
Is real.
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