SPRING does not appear willing to relinquish her grip on this part of New Jersey to Summer quite yet. Her arrival was detained. She was late in coming. Winter lasted long this year; not much snow, but cold. It's Memorial Day, and time for Spring to pass away soon to Summer. Spring - she is reluctant. God, please her. The leaves on the trees are still heavy with newness-why shouldn't she be reluctant to leave? This year, a short Spring. She is jealous. The clouds in a clear sky seem to mock her with their playfulness; they can come and go at their leisure. She, unfortunately, is on a timetable written by Another. She wants to stay. However, her days are very short, now.

I love her.

- 11:15 a.m., Saturday, May 30, 1998



THROUGH GOD'S EYES
Imagine looking at the Earth from high above in the Cosmos. If you could view its full circumference, imagine a filter that allowed you to witness all the souls that leave its plane and begin their journey to the next existence during the course of a day. My imaginary filter illuminates the souls of all those who have passed from this Earth, at the moment of their passing, by illuminating them as beautiful (and for some, perhaps, not so beautiful) beacons of light that flow away from the orb of Earth toward the Universe in their personal journey toward their own hereafter. A look toward India, or Africa, or any blighted, hungry nation, might illustrate a steady stream of souls in white, billowy strings brought on by so many deaths due to hunger and war, lack of medical attention, the prevalence of AIDS. A look toward other continents would offer a view - if you could see this through the eyes of God - of all the souls of those who have died, as they died, in a steady yet random stream, one that flows from each and every portion of the Earth, perhaps in a rhythm that is beautiful yet peculiar to the nature of death. On September 11, 2001, in the far southern tip of a portion of the Earth known as Manhattan, and in its central eastern seaboard situated in Washington, D.C., and in a field in Pennsylvania just outside of Pittsburgh in the United States of America, my mind's eye imagined a blinding illumination; an extreme brilliance. Suddenly - almost immediately - more than 3,000 lights of souls exited this Earthly plane and journeyed forth to meet their God in one simultaneous, enormous and blinding burst of light. For a brief moment, I can imagine His eyes almost hurting due to the intensity and sheer number of those brilliant souls exiting this plane and going on to the next - so suddenly, so swiftly, so immediately - in their journey toward Him.

- 11:00 p.m., Thursday, September 13, 2001

© 2002 Laura Harter, California Technologies