I lived in stolen hours.

In time that was not supposed to be mine.

The gaps between seconds others missed

where the clock forgot to tick

and the world froze on it’s axis

the sun stopped its slow death

and I all I could hear was my own heartbeat

slow, measured, and timeless.


6 thoughts on “

  1. Could you not hear it?
    There was at least one more
    timelessly beating heart…

    I relate so much to this excellent piece of yours, Lily!
    Before I help you see why the way we feel about our stolen hours is just perfect, would you please tell me if you have already viewed Michael Newton’s interview I gave you recently? It’s OK if you have not found the time yet, I will wait patiently until you do, because we need to take some things step by step. Our souls know everything, but our minds can only gradually absorb some truths. I am also exploring many things for the first time with you as we go along, and I don’t want us getting our minds confused. I do sense that your White gem has been partly born of the sparks ignited in you after listening to Michael Newton, but I may be wrong, or maybe you want to see the enlightening interview or some parts of it again before OK’ing me to proceed. So I’m on hold, ready when you are to offer you a couple more links.

    Take care of your daily life, my precious friend. I know to my core just how empty it often feels to you, but please trust, like you help me trust, that it’s all very meaningful.
    Always with you, Lily, in thought and spirit,

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