“They wouldn’t let your father out of Heaven to visit you”, so says Millie.

“THEY WOULDN’T LET YOUR FATHER OUT OF HEAVEN TO VISIT YOU”, SO SAYS MILLIE.

By Gail McNaughton, February 12, 2007

“They wouldn’t let your father out of Heaven to visit you”, so says Millie.

But he did come,

With a puff of cigarette smoke,

To the kitchen,

Where I am at home,

In the middle of household congestion.

He was hungry for company,

And knew,

That I’d smell his presence,

For I was used to spices and scents.

When I am one with the universe,

I am calm,

And our vibrational levels,

Almost collide,

But my dense emotions,

Are stirred in the soup pot,

With the potatoes and carrots,

And Dad only identifies with,

The steam essence of,

Who I am,

And not my shape and form,

Only my spirit.

It is enough for me,

Because my Dad’s presence,

In cigarette smoke,

Is all that I’ve ever known,

Since his death,

And it comforts me.

One day our two worlds,

Will mesh,

And I’ll see my Father,

Face to face.

He can always leave from Heaven,

For God makes all things possible,

For believers.

One day my Mother,

Will know the truth,

That God wants us to be one,

In spirit and form,

And to always be present,

With our loved ones.

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