Being an oracle, psychic, intuitive, seer, or whatever you want to call it, has amazing moments. Those that leave you in awe of the human spirit and the intricacies of energy and connection. Sometimes it also comes with very intense and tough messages to bring forward. I do not experience these often but last night was one of those times. Actually it started two nights ago at my part-time job when I went to the desk to jot down the first line of a poem that was starting to come through. I had a sense of what it was to be about, related to recent sad events and the aftermath that follows. Then it faded and I realized today that the paper was left at work somehow and it felt strange as I knew it was to be powerful.

Last night as I was settling into the last phase of my evening, the line popped in again, quickly followed by the next two... I grabbed my phone, opened the Notes app and spent the next hour being deeply inspired by one of the toughest things I think I have ever written. I did not write this alone as this is not something I have experienced to that extent. I have wondered what happens in people who commit terrible lone acts but do not think I could have created like this having only felt a little of the desperation myself during personal life moments. Thus, I thank the spirit and my interpreter guide who brought it forward. I felt the emotion as I wrote the words and felt it again and again as I edited, punctuated, and adjusted it, reading it out loud to bring it voice. You have been heard and I thank you. I am deeply touched to be chosen. I know that those close to me and those I follow and learn from, are already looking and working at ways to change things for the better and we will continue to do so. Blessed be the next phase of your journey and ours. Here are your words. You are no longer alone.

Please note that this post and poem do not refer to any specific incident or people that I am aware of.

Be aware that this feels like sensitive material which may not be suitable for all people.

Standing Alone

I stand alone

with the world

twirling around me.

I see things that others do not see.

I feel things that others do not feel.

I may be in the crowd

but I may not be seen.

I may seem to be with everyone

but I am utterly apart.

Everything is so intense.

So fearless and fearful at once.

It presents a challenge to see forward,

to see with clear eyes

while the tears form,

while the thoughts race,

and while the doubt surges

like a protective force.

And so,

I put on my armour,

but I don't realize that it only

shields me from help.

I carry my weapon,

but I don't realize that I hurt myself

with every second it is in my hand.

I walk away

when walking towards

would be so much better.

I can pass like shadow and dream

through the lives of others,

never knowing or being known

more than a standing shell.

My hands give me away.

Fists form, not out of anger

but of buildup and just holding on.

Then there's the shaking.

Some part of me shakes

as the rest seems so calm.

And my eyes,

they look away but if caught

they scream in need,

silent but loud,

empty but full of wanting.

Ready to be touched and to touch

like a delicate flower that wants to

be noticed and caressed

when the audience

will be gentle and appreciate

it's unique creation.

And when the depths of it all

boils over

I turn to wrath,

the pain too great to bear.

But it comes in a quiet wave

something that sneaks up

like a tsunami.

People don't notice the pull out

of the water.

They continue on with their lives

never knowing the crash is coming.

Better for them I think.

They don't need to plan and simmer in the upcoming horror,

they can smile and laugh and live.

Until my fire overtakes my peace

and I flood upon them.

I am so dreadfully sorry.

I never planned my existence

to go this way.

I seem cold and unfeeling

but in reality I am tearing apart

piece by piece,

breath by breath,

action by action.

The full hearted side of me

cries out in last desperation

to stop and surrender,

but I don't know another way now.

This is my protection.

This is my yelling out loud

when all the other signs

went unnoticed.

It is not a question of fault,

is it a story of disconnect.

I have moved so far away from myself

that I must create a new reality to survive

and you don't have the script

to live there.

It isn't even really a place for life.

It is a place to die hoping the next part will be better.

I know apologies do no justice.

I know hatred will run deep.

Just know, if you can,

that my soul is walking beside me

and can now connect with all

in a new and loving way.

Peace flows finally,

the armour is off,

the weapon has fallen,

and doubt has moved away

replaced by hope.

My eyes are full again

The empty mirrors can see clearly

and I see your sorrow.

I know your pain.

I have lived it

and now I have died in it.

Sorry will never be enough

but it is all I have to offer for now.

I will learn deep truths from this

but will only be able to share them

and to atone in another realm,

where I hope to make your life better,

so you may never

stand alone.

by Sheila Bicknell

BlueWater Oracle

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February 2018