Glimpses Beyond The Veil Poems

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Excerpt from Glimpses Beyond the Veil: Poems Spiritual, and Songs Earthly Of flesh that held his soul, which longed to soar Unto some half-remembered world he had known of yore When in the spirit, -for thus his thoughts would tend, In this strange world of spirits all his dreams would end. At home his mother waited, her heart grown chill For fear the boy had happen'd on some ill; Then when he came she sought to charm away The fancies which beset him night and day. For when he slept he murmur'd in his dreams Of books and stars, of flowers and murmuring streams, Or, stranger still, of god-like spirits hovering near To whisper mystic meanings in his ear. Then half affrighted she would creep to bed, A few short hours to rest her weary head. About this time a stranger came to dwell A stone's throw from the wood our Eric loved so well. A splendid white-bair'd man, of noble mien His furrowed brow denoted thought, his eyes were keen And dark - yet mild and sweet his face. His garments hung in folds of wondrous grace. He seemed some holy hermit, monk, or friar, For on his breast there shone a cross of mystic fire. Once wandering through the wood the boy he met; Questioned him often, and meeting again, questioned et, Margelling how such a mind had sprung from lowly birth Enquiring now of Heaven, and now of earth What made the stars to shine - and things man should not know Of other beings who rule for weal or woe The passions of mankind, who guide man's fate, Yet may in turn be roused to love or hate. 'twas thus he taught the boy of mystic lore, Revealing what Nature half revealed. Before. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

Did a tiny bird in Texas really communicate with a horse and convince him it was okay to load on a trailer he’d never been on? Did a horse, after a three-year absence, know that its previous owner was present by hearing a harmonica being played? Did a horse, who had never acted up, hurt its owner on purpose so she would go to the doctor, where she discovered cancer had returned? Richard D. Rowland seeks the answer to fascinating questions as he explores the connection between humans and animals. As someone who was diagnosed with a rare blood cancer and given three years to live (more than twelve years ago), the human-animal bond is a subject he knows well. Animals caused him to rethink life and showed him things he never thought possible—and they led him to write his previous book, Unspoken Messages: Spiritual Lessons I learned from Horses and Other Earthbound Souls. Based on his interviews with people throughout the world, this book expands on how animals are misunderstood—and how they’re much smarter than most people believe.

The poems contained in this volume are organized with the most recent poems in the beginning and the earliest ones at the end. This way, the authors particular journey is seen in retrospect, a memento to what God has done. The poems are primarily written in free verse, although some utilize various rhyme schemes. Swartz employs frequent allusions to biblical imagery and ideas to communicate the intended poetic concept.

Remember Your Wings Maybe I’m learning to love more, Maybe I opened the gate, Maybe I don’t have the answers, Maybe this comes down to fate. Maybe we danced once in heaven, Maybe we’re angels on earth, Maybe you’re the only one for me, Maybe my heart was yours first. Maybe your soul called out to me, Maybe my soul pulled you near, Maybe I’ve known you forever, Maybe you’re the reason I’m here. Maybe my heart sings only to you, Maybe my love knows no bounds, Maybe our love is so pure and true, Maybe our treasure is found. Maybe I’ll hold you forever, Maybe I remember your wings, Maybe I’m ever so thankful, Your divinity to my heart sings. Janine Palmer (Silver Moon)

W. Joseph Lutz’s poetry has a great variety of styles and subject matter. One theme that is frequently found is that of boundaries and limitations. These are treated sometimes with laughter and sometimes with a great sense of loss and sorrow. It is, of course, a facet of the human condition that everyone can understand. The stories vary greatly, from a lapsed academic searching for the holy grail to a high school baseball pitcher who gets injured and has to give up his dream of a sports career to a small-town alcoholic who can only find solace from the stifling confines of his too organized life by indulging in a late night tipple. There is optimism and joy as well. His answer to the long wait for help is expressed in two words—“it comes.” It will come. It always does come, not always in the way we expect, but undeniably “it comes.”