#ligthworker

I’ve been here before. I’ve been here many times before. When I look around me everything holds a memory. A memory from one life for another. I remember the clouds and how they float through the sky and form different shapes. Sometimes I can see the spirits of Native Americans running through the streets and through the fields. In my mind’s eye, I see images of the old cars and trains the once ran throughout this area. All of this is familiar. Everywhere is somebody there.

I remember living abroad and I could just envision Napoleon walking through the streets of France. In Rome I could see Julius Caesar strolling down the corridors Yes, it’s all familiar to me, from one life or another.

Sometimes I hear the beating of African drums and shells as I see people performing ritual dances.  I can hear the chants of the Native Americans. I can see the headpiece of the shaman and smell the cleansing aroma of sage.