Hello everyone.
When I was eight years old, the founder of Scientology, L Ron Hubbard moved in next door to us and soon became house friends with my parents. It was not long after and he was deported from our Country. He blamed my parents and my Father was outraged. We had nothing to do with it.
More than a decade latter two of my work colleagues persuaded me to enrol as a student of Scientology. Soon afterwards I decided to make a two week visit to the Scientology Head Quarters in Tampa Florida. I wrote this poem after I returned from that trip to Florida where I had stepped into the Devils lair. ( I have since learnt here at Bible-Truths where Satan’s throne room is and I can tell you he has many lairs too…I have no doubt that many if not all of you here have come across a few yourself and carry the scars to prove it !) I was appalled to experience a very painful shattering of my childhood illusions and trust in human nature. You may wonder what happened. I was not raped in my body, I was raped in my mind and soul, and in my faith and my trust of the Beast that appeared smiling as I was soulfully dying........
I was not to know then, that three years after writing this poem, my husband would be shot dead….. I also did not know that this, my first poem was named so very appropriately! It has been hidden, unseen and unspoken until now.
THE FIRST STEP 2.11.1983
I got crushed between the wheels of time
With no other place to draw the line.
I rambled on with great forlorn
Knowing my very soul was torn.
My feet I carried on thorny road
To find the Truth and her abode.
And more I lost as I went on
And all the time I heard the song
“Move on, move on! The riches there
are greater than you can compare. “
So into me an evil thrust
Of the very words that draw to dust
The soul of man and every race
That thus makes hast to abase.
Seeking on in mournful song
Until what I had was all gone.
I returned again by some small chance
And to the wind I cast my glance
“Oh spiteful way that to me did say –
‘Come along with me to stray
that you can make more rich the hay..’
So straws I picked with such intention
That I did lose hope of redemption
A game to play a heavy dice
That makes a loss every thrice.
To think to win the game to play
The third rolled dice does lose the way
And this the error in the plot
Deceptive guise that I knew not
And on such game to make my lot
While in my soul the treads do rot.
Upon this path dear soul I trod
To know the Truth of wicked plot
And all the love I could share
Was made to die in this full snare.
And even though my life I took
To dare to gaze and take a look.
And all the expense I suffered there
I don’t even dare to try to care.
For though I paid a price so heavy
I won the dice on the fall of thrice.
And looking back I see the Truth.
I won not because of youth or sleuth.
But into an arena I wrestled there
To play a game I thought was fair.
And so my soul I took to bear
To seek for Truth in the Devil’s lair.
So this the Truth I tell you now
You’ll find it not if you don’t toil
You’ll glimpse her not if you don’t boil.
For never will you spy her nought
And neither is she caught or bought.
Her love is greater than any man’s
And rewards she doesn’t hold in her hands.
She is simple and true to All and Love
And this does come from God above.
Part two 1.11.05
Wisdom is her name.
Life to her is not a game.
For it was won through great great shame
Cursed and bled and water shed
With crown of thorns upon His Head
He hung His sorrow till His life was shed.
So He could take and claim His own
You and I and His rightful throne.
Until He comes again to declare
It was Him alone who so did care
To share our burdens every where
So we could rise from the grave on that day
And on that day to truly say
He is Lord of Lords on earth above
As we exit our graves into the fullness of His great Love.
Jesus is His Name
Wisdom is His fame
And Human kind is not a game.
From earths great battle we should refrain
Till we can say Christ alone is our gain.
And return to Peace and threshold fair
To the one and only who does really care.
…………………………………………………
If you have read this, I want to thank you. I know it was very long. I want to say to you, tenderly and softly that I do know that this path has not been for me alone…. Many of us encounter much more heart ach, and gut wrenching mind numbing body and soul annihilating pain than I could ever describe. We have only to look at our Lord to know that we know so little of His unspeakable pain. Perhaps this is what makes my poem so small…. not short… because it is the unspoken pain, the unspeakable agony that writes the deeper language of the heart of God…and ultimately our joy in meeting that Love. For our God is Love making us into His image……..
He stood and bled so to His Bride He can wed
He died and rose so we can repose
~Till He comes again
When… When…who knows!…
And in my looking my waiting grows
As His dear life lives like a rose
In souls of those He knows, He knows.
Thorns that scratch and perfume dear
Not driving scars made bad with fear
His Sprit true, through and through
Birthed out of pain He only knew…23 October 2006
Arcturus…
.in training!