Old soul

The wind so cool.

The sun shining on my face.

Tears coming from my eyes,

And a broken heart in my body.

My love’s so strong that my life’s gone.

I wrote this when I was about 9 years old. Sitting at the dining room table while my Aunt Kathy was drinking coffee and chatting with my mom. I still remember this poem by memory 30 years later and I’m still in disbelief that a child could put those words together. Maybe it was possible because my mom always encouraged my love of poetry. She would surprise me with books, especially poetry books even though she didn’t care much for poetry herself. She called me her little book worm and was proud of my passion for words.

Old soul

I always had a special gift. Even as a child my Aunt would tell me she felt my aura and that I have been here before. That I was a gifted old soul with an intuitive ability, a spiritual calling you would say. Many times she encouraged me to pursue my gift, that not everyone has this ability but she saw it in my eyes and I should learn how to explore it. I sometimes know things before they happen, always have. I get a feeling in my chest when I know something others don’t. Sometimes I get a swirling in my stomach and my head aches, my ears tingle and I stay quiet because a feeling comes over me, maybe a glimpse of a vision. Most would call it your gut instinct, mine is kinda kicked up a notch. Sometimes I listen to it, and sometimes I push through it unsure if it’s the gift or natural fears. That’s the downside, never knowing if I’m walking right past the danger sign or just being a worry wart.

I can read people. I hear the unsaid words and I see the hidden emotions. I absorb them like a towel soaking up a spill and I feel them deep in my soul. It’s exhausting and when it happens, it’s a completely natural sense like smelling a flower. As a result, I always see both sides to a story or situation. I can relate and usually sympathize with all sides. 

Were those words I wrote at 9 carried from a previous life or was I absorbing emotions around me even then? Do I have a special ability that sometimes feels like a curse rather than a gift? If I were to pursue perfecting this would life scare me more or would it ease my fears of the unknown?


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