Friday, May 18, 2007

Lucky Flew Home

Shay-la sits across the room, on the floor. Her body exercises are unusual and remind me of yoga, but more graceful and refined. She reads my thoughts and we converse normally now, non-verbally almost all the time. I now react to each thought and it is strange to 'feel' someone caress you with their mind and thoughts.

To say that she has opened up a whole new world for me, would be the understatement of a lifetime. I realize now that the best parts of my day revolve around interactions with her. And on her homeworld, where such communication is normal, I now realize she can communicate across time and space and reach her family, friends and work associates just as easily as she reaches me. My skills, thanks to her tutelage, are increasing. I can now read almost any one's mind. The cacophony of thoughts in a crowd can quickly become unbearable unless I put up certain mental shielding. I have kept many of my newfound abilities from the Agency, as Shay-la has. I realize that revealing such would only serve to discomfort many and possibly jeopardize lots of things.

She walks over to me and raises her hands, her palm faced outwards. I raise mine and place them a few inches from hers. I feel the energy flow and can now watch as our auras interface, reaching out towards each other and strengthening our fields. This is the way close friends greet on her world. It's closer than a hug and more energizing as well.

Shay-la reads my mind and sees that I am a bit distraught.

A small, baby bird died quietly yesterday. Its name was Lucky. The name was given to it by a small girl, who lives in the neighborhood and who found it in the clutches of a cat. She nursed it and built a box nest for it, but Lucky flew home and left his injured body behind. She was very sad and buried the bird in the garden. She cried as she patted down the soil. I tried to explain that Lucky was better off, freed of the injured body and that now he could be reborn again, healthy and fly strong and high.

But she was still sad and seeing her sad, saddened me. I could feel her thoughts and emotions and her sense of loss was palpable. She loved Lucky, even though she only knew him for a few short hours.

Shay-la singles out this birds frequency, merely from my thoughts, and she shows me how to listen for it.

I hear Lucky chirping. It is unmistakable. Lucky is alive and well in some dimension I can't quite define, a dimension which Shay-la can access simply because she has a mastery over attenuation of her mental thought frequencies.

Lucky's chirps can still be heard and he wanted to thank the young girl who tried so hard to save him.

I know I may never be able to teach this girl how to hear Lucky sing, but Shay-la has helped me return to equilibrium.

And what about you...can you hear Lucky chirping?

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