Walking With The Angels

N.b when I got the message to channel this, I was shocked to read it when it was completed, then I reread it and the meaning shocked me, and I actually understood what this story is about, what it was truly saying.

From the old house, the sounds of a piano floated upon the breeze, down the garden and amongst the trees, mingling with the calls of the birds as they sang their special song to the world The overgrown grass gently swaying in the breeze and autumn leaves fell to lay like a sea of fiery reds and oranges upon the rich green grass, weeds ruled over the garden of wildly overgrown flowers and roses bushes, glimpses of colours vivid and bright.

The cobblestone path wandered away from the house, following a meandering trail down thru the trees to the old iron gate by the road, the setting sun casting shadows across the land, its dying glow filling the dusk sky.

A fantail fluttered around the branches of the proud oaks, darting to and fro as it made its way to the old wooden house, nestled amongst the trees.

It was once a magnificent house, 3 stories tall and the pride of the land, many years ago, but now, it was just a old house weather worn and battered, it stood silently, apart from the sounds of the piano being played within its depths.

It was a heart touching music, woven magic in each note played an artist who wove the skies many shades and the beauty of nature into his song.

The old iron gate creaked on its hinges as a cloaked stranger entered off the main road and started slowly up the wandering path to the house, his dusty cloak telling of a man who’s journeys was one of many miles travelled.

Inside the house, in a sparse room stood a old grand piano and it was from this, that a elderly man caressed and stroked the keys and drew from the piano, a haunting music, that filled the room, house and surrounding land, his gnarled hands and fingers working with a flowing skill and gentle love for his baby.

His bent back and balding head spoke of years of living and his hearing gone and his eyes failing were no barrier to his love of the beautiful music he played.

Frank was a simple man, who’s dream was playing music, music of the purest heart.

The knock on the door was gentle and yet, caught franks attention, and the playing ceased as he rose up and taking his walking stick, slowly made his way to the door.

Taking a few minutes to make some tea and biscuits, frank spoke with the angel about the weather and the beauty of the leaves in autumn.

Frank eased his weary body down into his favourite chair and let his cat, bossy, jump up into his lap where it settled down and purred, watching the angel with clear yellow eyes.

“ well, gabi, you are here to take my life, are you not”?.

“ some people do pass on before their time, some people are ready to leave and others fight to stay here”,

“ how do we know this?, well some people have accidents and pass on before they are ready but we can not leave them here for sometimes the body they have is damaged too much to stay in”

“some people do not wish to leave and they fight the light and hang on to their bodies in the hope that they will stay, and one day, they grow too weary to fight and let go”

“some people are ready to go and are at peace in life and call us to come for they are scared and we hold their hands as they make the journey home again”.

frank nodded quietly as gabi spoke about passing on, in a simple and gentle way.

“ you will not use the same tools for all jobs, and as you learn the skills of life, you will use many tools, and like a task or chore, you choose different tools, life is the same, in order to learn parts areas of living, you take different bodies”.

Frank pondered this explanation silently before pouring another cup of tea for gabi and himself.

“ ok gabi, I understand that, but why death, why the taking of a mans life”???

“ man has portrayed death as dark and final, the ultimate end to a man’s life”.

and this is for the simple reason that so few actually understand what happens when a soul leaves the body, so many ideas created by people that do not truly know what does happen.

“no frank, the act of death is not painful, it is peaceful dying also is not painful, the word dying is talking about a phase of life like growing, and living, it is just a word, it carries no pain, the suffering is from the body and dying is the final stage of your human shell.”

it is the suffering of the body that is painful, the physical pain that we suffer throughout life, only when we draw to the end, do we see it as painful and suffering

hence dying to many has become painful.

frank gasped at his chest as a spasm passed through his chest

and his eyes watered as he grabbed the chair leg, gabi leaned forward in his chair and laid his hand on franks arm, frank felt the warmth creep into his body, and a quiet peaceful fill him fully, he raised his face and looked at gabi’s peaceful face, feeling the spasm relieved in moments.

“ why” , gabi, I still live???”

tears rolled down franks face as he told gabi that his family came no more to share some time with him, was it cos they didn’t care? gabi patiently explained to frank that his family did love him very much but couldn’t handle the idea of losing him and so stayed away rather than face the fact that soon frank would be gone, the pain of death was emotional too, the parting of loved ones, the ones left behind and the one saying goodbye.

it is why passing is so hard for many.

frank sat by the piano and looked at the only photo of his children and grandchildren, his 2 sons and his daughter who had passed away 10 years ago from a bad illness, his 6 grandchildren were grown up now and all frank had was a photo and memories of times past.

upon the piano was a dog eared and un finished few pages of untitled music and frank rested his hand upon the keys and began to play, his ever faithfully cat laying on the piano watching as franks face glowed as his love, his music flowed from his baby.

and frank played from his heart, the walls gone and the emotions flowed into the music as birds flew down from the trees to sit on the window sills to hear the haunting music.

The setting sun peered into the room with the piano and set the room alit with the rays of the sunset, as gabi smiled as a wisp of mist appeared in the corner of the room and slowly took the form and shape of a lady, franks daughter stepped over to the piano and sat beside him and placed her hand on his arm and started to sing with the music, heavenly and warm, her voice filled the room as frank played like none before.

more angels appeared in the room and played instruments of music and added their voices in a song that told of walks in the sunset and days in the park, the bubbling laughter of children friends and lovers together.

and on they played and sang, this special song

the angels, frank, his daughter and gabi

when franks family were escorted to the house with the police, they found him still seated at his piano with his cat, a gentle smile upon his face, a peaceful smile of a peaceful passing. facing him was a single photo and on the piano was a few pages of old music sheets of finished music and titled simply

walking with the angels.