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Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #1382147
Delves into the link between temporal lobe epilepsy (TLE) and the spiritual experience.
I sense Him again:
the heat on my head,
the ringing within,
the scent of bread.

Piercing a brilliant mist,
He spirits me away;
my spastic frame left to twist
a grotesque ballet.

We emerge in the aether
of some timeless place.
I behold The Bequeather,
but dare not, His face.

Just beyond my grasp,
all eternity and more;
I realize, with a gasp,
I’ve seen this before.

As chaos closes in
and I lose my grip,
I know, once again,
I’ll be making this trip.

In a fetal position
I emerge from rebirth
and assess my condition
as I breathe in the earth.

Sore muscles, contusions
and a splitting head,
dispel the delusions
that I must be dead.

Moses, prophet to slaves;
Saint Paul’s heavenly light;
Muhammad in Mount Hira’s caves;
Joan of Arc, inspired to fight:

I study the history
of those He has blessed
and ponder the mystery
of God, manifest.
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