Five years ago, on Oct. 15, 2009, my father left his body, only 29 days after my mother had also done so.  Though I had been very close to my mom, my dad and I had been estranged for two years before his passing, our lives together, full of pain.

Since before and after his passing, I had been experiencing heart pain in the form of physical spasms and chest wall constriction plus asthma-like symptoms that seemed to be getting worse.  After consultation with doctors who said this and that as they will (nothing serious; here’s a drug), I knew I had emotional work to do, the work of reconciling this unresolved grief that had lodged itself in my heart chakra.

As I told you in my comments about “between the worlds,” my ancestors and I, especially my father most recently, have had vigorous, ongoing post-hummus communications in the form of scented visitations and vivid (often nightmarish) dreams.  My art has always been, for me, a form of prayer and communication with Higher Realms.  I also work with my dreams and visions this way, so working them and with canvas and paint to resolve my grief, to “hear” my father, to “speak” with him on behalf of healing was only natural.

And so it happened that I was fully engaged in painting and getting ready for “the surprising” during this season or anniversary of my parent’s transition from flesh and that the show would occur and the paintings would be hanging in the gallery on the anniversary of my father’s passing.

Near the finish of this painting, the fourth in the series (remember the heart chakra is the fourth chakra in the subtle body or energy system), I sat in my great-grandmother’s rocking chair across the room from it.

My studio window was open to the sound and scent of gentle, September rain.  My heart was open to my father, to my work, to my Self.  I listened for any message the painting might have for me.  Within seconds, this lyric arrived: “love seeks its own.”  Of course, this phrase caused me to sob for many minutes, since love of the tender, accepting variety was what I had longed for from my father.  Allowing the tears to flow, I grabbed my journal, suspecting a message coming through.

Here is the message in the form of lyrics complete with a melody that came through this painting and that I believe is a message directly from my father’s essence to me, for me, for the planet and for all humans in difficult relationships:

when from beyond the grave/ love seeks it own/ in the violet play/ we are all as one/release from hate/& free to fly/ with ones who wait/for us on high

(refrain): there is no choir/no golden throne/no standard issue/white flowing robe/but everyone sings/yes everyone sings/and in a giant ring/we are dancing

the face of love is seen/as we are shown/hidden in between/all that we have known/this life we’ve lived/our lessons learned/we each are gifts/we give in turn

(refrain): there is no choir/no golden throne/no standard issue/white flowing robe/but everyone sings/yes everyone sings/and in a giant ring/we are dancing

we see no difference/from heart to heart/have only reverence/& a brand new start/the purpose of/all that we have done/becoming like the holy one

(refrain):  there is no choir/no golden throne/no standard issue/white flowing robe/but everyone sings/yes everyone sings/and in a giant ring/we are dancing

I am completely humbled by the love this message conveys.  My heart is lighter and I believe, so is my father’s.  May he rest in peace.