Sister’s Voice (Heal)

January 11 2016 PHX PHL WFL 673 Modfied

The night that brought me sister’s voice
Was dead quiet and still as those
Midnights when Mom made her terror all mine
Over four decades and two dozen lives ago

Sister’s voice was also as quiet and still
As she talked about fear and death and failure
Just as Mom had when calmly referencing hitmen and demons
Though instead of sitting on my bed in Fassett
Her voice was thousands of miles away

Prayers and love and concern sent with all my might
Could not erase that fear from her voice
Any more than my aggression and abuse could
Calm Mom’s rising fears and pervasive terror
All those years ago

Sister, sister where have you gone
Why are you back in the hell we once knew
I couldn’t protect you then and I can’t protect you now
From the you running deeper into your darkest head

The growing split that tore her from reality
Made perfect terrifying sense to her
Just as mine did 41 years ago
When I knew in fear Tony would kill me
If he only had the chance

When I heard her voice over the phone
Did not become
Did not become
Because I no longer am just an orphaned son
Made into the Man of The House
Burning down all around my family
Because I am stronger now
In feeling and being loved
Because I know
About hormones PTSD
Medications TIAs CVAs
Such letters and words
Part of my cells’ memory
Angels told me Sister would emerge
They spoke of turbulence
This warrior I am now summoned
The Universe to help her heal
Quieting those voices that became her fears
As wisdom slowly seeped onto her path
I did as I was told and advised from afar

Sending in Angels
Speaking in Tongues with spirits
Conversing in jargon with siblings nurses
Prayers, chants, lessons, consults
All the time knowing her voice
Would soon heal and return

Sister sister heal now through love
Wisdom flowing through me to you
Across our thousands’ miles
Strengthening your Inner Voice
As I sit alone and meditate
Unlike when I was a child
And could only hear
Hell’s voice inside Mom’s head



Copyright © 2018 by John David Higham: All Rights Reserved
Photo: Infinity (Lehigh Tunnel)

My Soul (Remains That of a Child)

December 14 2015 Windfall 421


In the morning
As I sent Reiki to my sick Lillian,
My daughter sleeping in my arms
As we both fought head colds
And it felt like the sun would never rise,
I listened to her breathing
And the rain, the latter falling just
Outside my window.

Daddy Day plans all put on hold
By forces greater than her and I put together,
We stayed in our pajamas and cuddled
In bed,
On the sofa,
And back again.

My soul (remains that of a child)
So that I will always know hers,
So that I will always know the truth;
No matter how inconvenient it will be,
No matter how much money it will cost,
No matter how many relationships it will cost.

I want to keep looking
With eyes that don’t belong
To this older man’s body,
But instead with the imbued wonder
Of a child flowing through each day.

A child doesn’t care
About job security,
About being popular,
About finding love;
But instead with just being.

That is who I want to be
When I grow up;
Dead to the waking world’s
Empty “seriousness”
So I can continue
Hearing The Angels laughing.


© copyright 2016 John David Higham


Photo: Aboard The Polar Express (Williamsport: December, 2015)





Can You Accept Your Gifts (You Are, You Are…)




When you know
The soul of a stranger
Just by looking at her photo,
Or taste bloody glass
An hour before
Coming upon an accident,
Can you look at yourself
With an eye so honest,
With an eye so otherworldly
That you know
Not only who you are,
But exactly what you are?

When you know
The cold feel
Of death
In the eyes of the child living
And it comes to pass
Despite what you want,
Despite what you beg
And what silence you harbored
Because you were directed
To not speak,
To not warn.

When you know
By looking at the face
Of a distant classmate’s daughter
That she is not being
Called to cross over
And you write those words
With all conviction
And without
Any doubt
And don’t need “proof”
Or to say, “I told you so”
Because you know
Those were not your words,
Those were not your thoughts.

When you know
The carnal joys a couple has
Miles away
And your body responds
As if it is your joy
And you can hear their passion
And feel their hands
Upon your flesh
And know the joys
And know the passion
And know the hands
Are not yours.

And your mind
Is racing with all your terror,
Is racing with all your fear
Of being judged,
Of being diagnosed
But you know
That these connections
Are not of your making,
But are only of your path
And people say that you are different
And that you creep them out
And that you are crazy
But it’s all flowing in
So rapidly (So slowly)
You must take notice (You question it)
Then at best you just
Surrender to it
And trust that it will
All be sorted out
By forces
So much greater than you,
So much greater than you.

You are, you are
Like me
Way beyond this world
Way beyond this place
As your sensitivity
Makes you stronger
(Than the pain you feel ripping
Through your soul by knowing
All that you know)
That is not yours
And the joy that simultaneously vibrates
Inside your soul like singing bowl.

You are, you are
Going where you need to be
Away from all this
A part of all this
Listening to voices
That don’t need to speak,
Poetry that calls itself life,
Love that is way beyond romantic.

“Magical thinking,”
Is all the same to me
The future is the past is the now
As I listen to what
I am told
And laugh aloud at my silly fears
Because they are all connected
To this mundane waking world
Of mine.

You are, you are
Hearing others listen
Feeling other’s emotions
Knowing other’s futures
In your infinite heres and nows.

We who see,
We who know
(You are,
You are …)
Such things; we
Are not the damned
Are not the wise;
We are just
Inside our bodies
Inside our lives
On spiritual vacation.

Can you
Accept your gifts?
Can you
Be these gifts
Not be corrupted,
Not be compromised,
Not be confused
Or whine like a puppy
Even as you sob
At all that you know
And are directed to accept?

You are,
You are…

Power and strength
From knowing,
From being,
From The Universe
Through me via
My soul
As I am to the Earth,
As I am to the seas,
As I am to the sky,
As I am to you.
We are just
Pipes through which
The Great Spirit flows;
You are,
You are…


© copyright 2016 John David Higham


Photo: Reflections  (DFW People Mover: February, 2016)

Will You See The Angels (On Your Darkest Path)?

Windfall Bloss Mountain February 23 2016 234 Edit

Will you see The Angels
On your darkest path,
When bleakness and despair
Winnow all your hope?

Will you see The Angels
In the middle of your storm
That rages within (without end)
And batters you body, mind, and soul?

Will you see The Angels
When the foundations of your life
Are obliterated into a suffocating dust
That buries you upright in mid-step?

What of those times
When you look in the mirror
And do not see
Anyone who loves you;
Will you see The Angels then?

They are not invisible, my friend;
They wait patiently
Through the storms of your tears,
The prisons of your thoughts, and
Your self-imposed tortures
To love you,
To guide you
Beyond the ruins
You call home.


© Copyright 2016 by John David Higham


Sometimes I Forget

January 11 2016 PHX PHL WFL 673 Modfied
Sometimes I forget
That I tunneled through more mountains
Before I was twenty
Than most people do their entire lives.

Sometimes I forget
That I deserve to be proud
Of who I was,
Of who I am,
Who I will be.

Sometimes I forget
That I have accepted my every mistake,
Made every amend I could (and more)
And am grateful at having been forgiven.

Sometimes I forget
How deserving I am
Of love,
Of bliss,
Of abundance.

Sometimes I forget
How much I am capable of doing;
How even though to others it looked easy,
It was an intense challenge and a struggle.

Sometimes I forget
That failure no longer exists
And that mistakes
Are introductions to lessons
I know that I will learn.

Sometimes I forget
Instead getting so caught up
In the
In the
In the
Which swirls around me
And sucks me in without warning.

Sometimes I forget
How strong,
How sensitive,
How resilient I am.

Sometimes I forget
That I am never alone,
That I am loved and respected;
And that I earned those gifts,
And continue to deserve them.

Sometimes I forget
That this is not my first mountain
And that I do not need
To tunnel through it
On my own.

Sometimes I forget
How to be mindful
How to be still
How to be.

Sometimes I forget
The daily miracles,
The Angels,
And my optimism.

Sometimes I forget,
But then The Universe
Bitch slaps me into remembering,
Reminding me to simultaneously reach
Deep within myself through meditation
Outward through poetry
I again recall all those past tunnels,
Know again my determination and self-confidence,
Acknowledge with gratitude and love
The Angels and the people on my path,
And once again
Heed my Inner Voice.

The Succubus

December 6 2015 023

A succubus today,
Sampling my nurturance,
Taking hostage The Empress
Giving back
When I asked
To respond

Us both love,
And The Angels…


I Was My Father (Dream Note)

December 5 2015 Windfall 101

I was my father
Dressed in an old hospital gown and pajamas,
Shuffling barefoot and alone in the brightly-lit ward
As I made my way to the stairs.

I was my father
Finding my navy blue station wagon
In the hospital’s vacant parking lot,
The vehicle unlocked and devoid of my wife and kids.

I was my father
Sliding into the driver’s seat on that bright spring day,
Accepting that the Ford started itself without a key
And shifted into gear as I gently held the wheel.

On empty suburban New Jersey streets,
My vehicle crept toward a home I no longer recalled,
The transmission failing as I wondered why,
Where everyone had gone, and how I was going.

I was my father
Again sitting behind my wheel
Looking at my quiet streets
From my vacant parking lot
Outside my empty hospital
In my station wagon without my wife or kids
On my sunny afternoon.

I was my father
In my driver’s seat,
Gently releasing my steering wheel
In my now eternally-parked wagon…

I was my father’s last dream
As my night gently became noon;
Sunlight streaming through my curtain,
His love streaming through my soul.


Goodnight, Paris. I Love You.

November 13 2015 Windfall 033

“Goodnight, Paris. I love you,”
My daughter Lillian said
After I tucked her in.

Like me, she knew not
The names
The weapons
The ideology
Or the details.

And like me,
She knows only love.

And, like her,
I knew that
Who they were
didn’t matter.
What they used
didn’t matter.
What principles
they espoused
didn’t matter.
What religion
they followed
didn’t matter.

I know who they are,
having seen them
so many times
before on my path:
Always different
in some ways.
Always the same
in just one way.

And, like my daughter,
I know exactly how
to deal with them.

Goodnight, Paris.
I love you…
Sending in The Angels.

How Black this Wind That Calls Me: The Dolphin and Temperance

PHL NOvember 11 2015 066

How black this wind
That calls me
With grass so gray
And sky of ash,
How its cold roar
(Not like that of a lion,
But more an endless avalanche)
Of increasing weight
My soul.

It is all too easy now
To forget that I embraced magic,
That Angels had invited me
To their eternal dance,
And that miracles once
Were pebbles on my path.

A younger more foolish me
Back then, I rallied against
Such an oppressive blanket
By tossing it off in masculine anger
With all my being, all my might
Into the black wind that called me
As I turned
Fear into rage into mastery.

Now, I

Dolphin and Temperance
Come to me.

The Dancing Angels
Tell me to allow the wind
To push me up, down
Along the dead grasses
And invite the sharp air
Into these lungs
And, smile, smile, smile.

I am The Dolphin:

I am Temperance:

I am again magic
In the black wind.

I am again dancing
With The Angels
In the black wind.

I am again miracles
In the black wind.

Hitler or Jesus Poetic Quiz (Laughing Buddha Knows)

January 2015 Pics Videos 1536 Laughing Buddha

Hitler or Jesus:
Which are you?
(Laughing Buddha knows.)

Shall I
Choose to lie at your feet
The Fuehrer
The Savior?

Will your miracles
Only over men
Over all of creation?

Hitler or Jesus?
(Laughing Buddha knows.)

Can you save my eternal life
Just my bank account and lifestyle?
I gotta know.

Tell me:
Is your Holiness
From God?

Have you ascended from Hell
With mere moments until your final descent
Have you descended from Heaven
With an eternity to spend there?

Hitler or Jesus?
(Laughing Buddha knows.)

Do your words bring truth, love, and salvation
Are they merely deceptions manufactured
To allay my deepest fears?

Do you command vast armies
Battalions of Angels?

Are you motivated by desire
Of salvation and rebirth?

Hitler or Jesus?
(Laughing Buddha knows.)

Laughing Buddha tells me.
Is not fooled
By the deceptions
Your followers,
Whether they are working
Sanctify your evil
Quoting scripture
Justify their own evil.