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Sunday, October 02, 2005

A Reputation Of Paradise

I met an angel one evening, when the heavens were a bright sky-blue.

And I was sung the most beautiful melody I've ever heard.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that laying my head on my pillow that evening, as I had done so many times before, would lead me to a journey most amazing.

I remember closing my tired eyes and suddenly feeling my heart slip out of beat. I was in my bed, and not in my bed, if you see what I mean.

I was floating.

As I rose higher through a bright background of sky-blue and cloud-white, the exhiliaration inside me rose higher, too...so high that the joy was almost painful.

It filled the deepest crevices in me, and tore the tears from my eyes.

I was crying for joy as I continued to float higher upwards, and yet I could sense the same tears wet my pillow, which I had left so far below.

I knew I had died momentarily, but whether literally or just from happiness I do not know.

But it was at that moment of realisation, I saw the angel.

The bright whiteness sang to me, and I understood that as wondourous as Death was, Life was infintely more so, because it was the incredible journey that brought us here.

Whenever I see something in our world that disturbs me, I remember that melody. Now, with the recent bombings in Bali, I think of that sublime dream again.

I remember drawing up enough courage to ask the heavenly singer if the melody had a name.

"Hope," the angel sang. "Hope."

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