Imagine There Is A Heaven

Telescope, when given more power it’s an instant time machine. You witness the birth and death that have cycled since the moment our universe came to be.

Maybe there was a place like the Earth that was destroyed by its inhabitants. Maybe there was another place like the Earth where the people had gained the insight of truly being a part of the whole.

Their spirit had risen to a frequency that shifted them into another plane, where they can enjoy the luscious space without imposing on the environment. They vibrate in symphony with the rhythm of the vastness about them.

No one being has the need to take from others because there is not void in anyone’s soul. Everyone has the faith in oneself to contribute their uniqueness without letting the greed of feeling self-importance pollute one’s intention to give.

To the not yet well-evolved humans, it may seem as if that planet has lived through their golden era and now is only hanging on in the dim glow of the twilight. After all, we, are the kind that can only imagine there is a heaven.

This was a 10-min free write. Our instructor gave us three words one at the time as we write. These words are highlighted above.

Better it be in the heaven

Do you believe it?
When someone says you are good.
I don’t.
But I want to.

Think of it this way,
My personal earth mother said.
It’s not a judgment,
It’s a kindness.

Emotion surged,
The sign of enlightenment gained.

Forever now,
I will tide this kindness on a balloon,
Every time I receive praise.

Let it go where the angels and I know,
Rather it be in the heaven,
Than it becomes attached to me.

Opening My Can of Turmoil

This me now,
It’s not the real me.

I miss my happy self,
The girl who didn’t know how to hate herself,
The girl who didn’t know how to hurt herself,
The girl who didn’t know how to hide herself.

With my can of turmoil opened,
I can smell my happy self coming back.

The orange in the sock

Who put the orange in my sock? I don’t like orange of any kind. Oval, round, tangy, sweet, I hate them all.

The old man grumbled as he went around the house to check for sign of the break-in but everything looked to be in perfect order. He then open his backdoor and threw the orange in the yard, thinking some animals might like it more than he does.

The next morning, another fresh orange appeared in his sock. This time it was even bigger and brighter. He threw it out again.

On the third day, when he opened his door with the orange at the ready, a squirrel was waiting. The squirrel was so skinny, you’d think it’s a paper mache on a small frame.

Now the old man likes oranges and he shares it with his new ferry friend.

A prize with a surprise

Harry rushed up the stage in the thunderous applause. He had a feeling he was going to win the prize at last. Being a para-normal reporter, past judges refused to favor him.

He had been waiting for this moment since the government went full disclosure on the UFO and alien phenomenon. Although he always thought doing his job right was good enough for him, now he knew how much he wanted this chunk of crystal paperweight.

Upon returning home, he placed the award on his windowsill where the moonlight can be splattered onto all corners of his room. As his eyelids got heavier, he noticed the bright spots expanding; a sucking sound came from the direction of the window; his body being squeezed and pulled toward the crystal like warm taffy.

Next day’s headline: “Award Winning Reporter, Gone without A Trace”