I sought not these voices that enter my head,
Nor this physical ‘other’ that escorts me to bed.
‘Innocence’, it seems, then, was my middle name
When first I tried dowsing - but ‘twas not a game.
Curiosity drove me. But most curious I found,
Were voices that spoke without making a sound.
With my mind wide open – no barriers in place,
I sat one bright day, gazing, lost in my space.
Unprepared, as a ‘presence’ that I couldn’t see,
Moved out of my ‘space’ and right into me.
At first it was friendly; at first it was kind,
But soon it had plans to take over my mind.
Was it one? Were there twenty? Still I don’t know
How such vile intrusions could grow and yet grow.
While my head became such a huge circus tent
With tricksters and jugglers all fully Hell bent
On creating Hell; such a Hell without cease
Inside a clear mind that had known only peace.
If I listened and followed their every intent,
Why soon I'd be lost up my own fundament.
Do it this way, no that way, no t’other, they’d say.
If I let them, I’d stand in a dither all day,
Bereft of all power to make my own choice
Becoming a puppet - controlled by The Voice.
For thirty long years I have just had my fill
Of voices and ‘others’ – yet never was ill.
I knew from Day One, the original voice
Was – now I am faced with a difficult choice.
I know there exist certain spirits, you see
But will you believe me? With me then agree?
Since Ape became Man, every race then has found
Such voices that speak without making a sound.
Consoling or harming, these words that they utter.
To help you - or force you down into the gutter.
With words that inspire or words that deprave,
Shining like diamonds, or dark as the grave.
I’ve shown you the counterfeit side of the coin.
The obverse shines brightly with those who will join
With you in your quest for a mind that is free
Of malign intrusion. But how can that be?
Good ‘spirits’ exist – of that have no doubt,
With knowledge and wisdom and notable ‘clout’.
Those same thirty years, then, have brought me such wealth
From those that approach me, but not in their stealth.
Inform me; support me; encourage as well,
Surround me with, truly, the obverse of Hell.
They came when I needed; nowhere did I look,
And that is the reason why I wrote my book.