Angels visit us every day in disguise as friends, family and those that might just cross our paths. Shine brightly and open yourself up to the magic of angels.
I’ve been out of sorts the last week or so, weird dreams that I’ve shared here, fluctuating moods and bad feet. Luckily my neighbor and friend is a homeopath and knows me well. He has treated me over the years and strangely usually gets me right. I say strange because before I met him I thought homeopathy was a load of rubbish. How he has proved me wrong over the years is just amazing.
Last week he gave me amythst for three days and I was so much lighter, fun and put my worries to the back of my mind. That was not the end, he thought about me, my life experiences and thought he may have another deeper remedy. He asked how I felt about butterflies. How strange it was five minutes after I had written a poem about butterflies and he doesn’t even follow my blog!
I’ve been a little infactuated with these little creatures lately, it’s all to do with my preoccupation with death and transitions. Apparently this remedy sits well with me, loss of mother, abandoned in childhood (father), feelings of loss and abandonment, self doubt, feet etc.
It arrived yesterday and I swallowed it without a seconds thought. Nothing much happened and I thought maybe it wasn’t the right remedy. That’s okay because if it’s not right, it won’t hurt.
Last night I went to bed and dreamt of my mum, she was alive, warm and beautiful. We hugged and I cried, I’m crying now as I write this but that’s good because they are happy tears.
I think he was right, the remedy was deep.
A butterfly flew in the door, I knew it was my mum.
A visit dancing through, with lots of love and fun.
It’s good to see her flying now, no longer in her chair.
I’m happy that she’s healthy, since stepping over there.
Sometimes she’s a feather, so very light and bright.
She floats on air and drops on me, not a bird in sight.
It’s usually to tell me, that I’m heading the right way.
It’s how she keeps in contact, since she went away.
In winter she’s a robin, with breast of brightest red.
She sits upon the woodpile, sings while I’m in bed.
She’ll always come to see me, I know that to be true.
Until one day, I step behind, that same doorway too.
Angel feasting on the flower, tell me what it is like.
That you transformed from a tiny beast, simply overnight.
Did you know your time had come, did you other angels see.
Your transformation indicates, that this could occur to me.
Do you fly in other realms, where celestial beings roam.
Tell me when you changed your form did you go back home.
Colorful angel stop a while, to help me understand.
Are the flowers any sweeter, when you reach the other land.