This Poem was Submitted By: Jim Wilson On Date: 2001-06-06 16:07:14 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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#79 Recipe for Revelation

I prepare to think, meditate, get in touch. No thinking without preparation: three candles, two incense sticks, lights off, cassette with native American Indian, flute music. Play softly. Sit straight. No crossed legs. Tongue  poked in roof of mouth, gently. Breathe through nose. All solid Taoist advice. Oh, put cassette across the room in the distance. What should I think about? Well, how about,  Thank you, God..........and I do....some. But I also think. Why all the aids to think? And I doze, fitfully. Minutes on. Minutes off. Worked once. God came. Green light diffused the black of my sleep-thinking. I realized I was smiling, as I never had before or since. I felt a presence. That's all I can say. I know God was there. No message, no tracks, no burned spot on the ground. Green light....smile....know. You know.....there is no know.....like know.

Copyright © June 2001 Jim Wilson


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