BURA’S BLURB
OCTOBER
2011
HELLO AMIGOS!
THE ZAP MACHINE
On Saturday 4th June 2011: I once again fired-up the MEDICINE WHEEL. This was the 2nd Medicine Wheel in 15 years. The first one was in Lancing in Sussex built to strengthen and balance the chakric system (chakras) especially for ‘healers’ but also to ‘administer’ healing.
The Medicine Wheel was called the Zap Machine!
The story of how this came about was simple: I was leading two ‘Psychic Development’ groups a week (minimum of 12 people, maximum 14): and I was overshadowed (LIGHT TRANCE) first by Black Hawk who taught the importance of ‘the breath’ and taught us to breathe properly and also gave us a particular colour to breathe.
The 2nd entity was Grey Wolf who taught us how to see clairvoyantly without getting emotionally involved with what we saw - to stand apart from it (The Witness). And also clearing out all the rubbish accumulated in this life (also debris from past lives) which was pulled out of the 3rd Eye by the group concentrating on a large piece of amethyst which Grey Wolf held in his hands. Many of the group could actually feel the pressure in the space between the eyes and forehead as the debris was gently pulled out!
The ‘Team’ - as it became affectionately known - was led by my main mentor: a Burmese Buddhist monk called Joeb (real name was Djung).
It was about six months into the groups being formed that Red Fox made himself known.
Red Fox wanted me to make a Medicine Wheel consisting of four 4 foot poles about 3-4 foot across and I was to put on top of the poles large amethyst crystals (this particular crystal catches all the negative energy). He told me this clairvoyantly. What to do? So I put it to the group (Monday group) and asked them if they wanted me to do what Red Fox had suggested as I didn’t want to end up with ‘psychic egg on my face’ if it failed? They ALL agreed that it was a good idea. SO I BUILT IT!
And it worked!
People were being healed of their aches and pains and folk were being psychically trained as a result of ‘once monthly’ sitting in the Medicine Wheel. Also their ‘Chakras’ were being balanced and if you were being trained ‘as a healer’ this was important!
Red Fox would hold in each hand a clear quartz crystal and gently rotate them over the ‘Heart Chakra’ then up to the ‘Throat Chakra’, the ‘3rd Eye Chakra’ and finally the ‘Crown Chakra’! (Only rarely would he start with the Solar Plexus: the seat of the emotions!) Then he would ask the recipient whether they wanted healing?
So now, these 15 years later, I asked my neighbour, Peter Hill, if he would build me another Zap Machine (Zap.2.) as I was no longer physically able. I knew that eventually I was to start this work again and now was the time!
So on the 4th of June six people (3 nurses from The Victoria Memorial Hospital Herne Bay who I met whilst getting over a broken elbow, (one of whom completely cured me of a very painful shoulder, a shoulder that I suffered with BEFORE I broke my elbow and whose ‘hot healing hands’ were a revelation!), Peter, Barbara and my skin and blister (sister) Melly.
When it was all over I asked each of them whether they had felt anything. Gina said directly she entered the Zapper she felt her hands begin to tingle and other parts of her body where she suffered a particular skin complaint. Peter just felt a sense of peace and tranquillity. Barbara felt tingling warmth, again where her body ached. Jane felt a sense of warmth penetrate the lower part of her back (the nurses curse!) and her throat began to tingle (when the Throat Chakra tingles that is a sure sign of psychic development). Mary at first felt nothing but the overwhelming feeling to cry! Peter said: Joeb does that to me almost every week but it’s not a negative feeling (Joeb is also a healer). Then Mary began to gently weep! I echoed what Peter said: Peter was coming to me twice a week; I was overshadowed by JOEB, who dolls out his own particular brand of healing. As I have said before: it all comes from the same source and crying is a good thing, clears away all the emotional dross collected during this lifetime and perhaps the last! My little sister Melly felt nothing on this occasion, her thoughts were elsewhere: her and her husband Frank had an elderly dog who was dying of cancer of the liver! Joeb did what he could but ‘Joanie the dog’s’ time was up and we all knew it!
Joeb describes the various types of healing as a conductor of an orchestra: when the orchestra plays the same piece with the same arrangements it is the CONDUCTOR who inspires the orchestra (healing energy) – but every conductor is different, inspiring his orchestra in different ways!
Of course there are those amongst you who will ask: ‘How is it that Red Fox or Joeb can heal others but NOT you?’ The answer is simple: it is purely karmic. You see at some level I had asked for polio in order to learn lessons. I can’t be sure of course but I think it involves the ‘Ego’ ‘Patience’ and ‘Tolerance’!
I have, however, experienced healing but it had nothing to do with polio or post polio syndrome. Mary for instance (above) healed me of a pain in my neck and shoulder so severe that it was as though a knife had been plunged into it and twisted! After just two sessions of her hot, healing hands I was completely cured! This is just ONE personal example, and there were more! But when it comes to the after effects of polio…now that’s a different matter altogether. I had ASKED for that!
When Red Fox finishes with balancing the charkas he asked the same question: “Do you require healing?” Most say ‘yes’ and those that answer in the affirmative when he’s finished he will say: “When you leave the Medicine Wheel The Egyptian: Ak-ka-bar, will continue the healing for a few minutes longer.
However, because he was aware of the fact that a few members were learning the art of healing he suggested that Peter Hill (already an experienced healer) and Mary took over the role of: The Egyptian and give the recipients further healing in his place!
*******
AND SO A POEM:
WITHOUT FORM OR STRUCTURE
(For Gerard Manley Hopkins c/o The Waltons)
My heart in hiding stirred
And when I looked at you knelt there
I saw many a magnificent thing
Without form or structure
Glowing golden and wonderful
It needed no language to storm
The barricades, no form or structure,
Because I had heard the word within me
And that was enough: for the words
Came and thundered, came and thundered
And that was enough: that was enough!
ADIOS AMIGOS!
See you next month!
LUV ‘N LITE ‘N LARFTER.
Paul Bura
SEPTEMBER BLURB 2011
HELLO AMIGOS!!
Sparrowhawk 
What can I see from my especially high armchair? It’s high because I can only get out of the chair and stand up when my arms and legs have ‘locked’ in a straight line! (Thought you should know that; don’t know why but thought you should know that: but don’t for Christ’s sake say: “Ahhh”, or I’ll brain you!)
In front of my chair I have a computer and computer stand, which doubles as a sturdy table on which I can lean to stand up or eat my meals.
From my chair I can see out of the large sliding double-doors and out onto my patio. Sadly, the bird table is now deserted and the fat-ball holder hasn’t been touched for months, the nut feeder growing mould. Why? A Hawk!
THE HAWK
This Sparrow Hawk had brought the bird population to nothing short of devastation: blackbird, robin, sparrow, the odd rook, starling and blue-tit - the only bird of a regular visiterage was the humble and fearless pidgin, other than these it came to a complete halt!
I had been only a few months in my new home and just acrewed a regular following of garden birds (the above list…and growing) when he arrived.
He/She was magnificent!
The Hawk stood on my bird-table with the nobility and majesty that was the bird of prey. The Hawk held my gaze for all of five minutes then silently rose to the far fence and finished off his kill! He ate his fill and was gone!
One by one the garden emptied, slowly at first, barely noticeable: then the cheeky chirpy sparrow fell silent and began to die-off, the blackbird followed by the spear-beaked starling…and so on: the silent killing staining my small garden with intangible blood. The Hawk making his presence known!
Meanwhile I broke my right elbow. By the time I arrived back home at the end of October 2010 the garden was silent and empty.
The devastation total!
What to do?
I had tried appealing to the Devic aspect of ‘all’ Hawks – including the Sparrow Hawk – by silent meditation explaining that he/she had the whole of the Kent countryside to hunt in but to please leave my garden - and the gardens on our small estate – alone! But to no avail! True, I hadn’t actually seen the Hawk since my arrival back but try telling that to my small gathering of garden birds. They remained petrified! Even the weather – remaining below freezing for the weeks of the ‘big snow’ – did little to tempt the birds back, so I assumed that the Hawk remained, his rifle-eye trained on my bird-table and feeders!
Again, what to do?
Then a robin appeared briefly and a blackbird - the pidgins still came, mind you, perhaps it’s their size that keeps the Hawk away? and also there appears to be safety in numbers?.
Days went by whilst I did another meditation.
Two weeks came and went and THEN: the robin reappeared and with it came 6 sparrows, three on the bird table, two on the ground, and one clinging on to my fat-ball holder!
Two days passed and I got another visitation of sparrows, plus the odd blackbird in between. Then again: nothing!
The RSPB suggested putting a bamboo hanging-screen in front of the bird-table with the three sides left open. I’ll try anything once; hawks usually take their pray in flight and this screen is designed to confuse it!
I sent for a bamboo screen and had it attached just in front of the bird-table. I don’t know whether all the birds – including the pidgins who continued to come, but not on the bird-table – were shit-scared or just confused but they all stayed away!
It’s five days since the screen was taken down.
Suddenly a lone robin appears and lands on the bird-table. He stays for a few minutes then flies away. Three sparrows one after the other land and feed; they fly away. Again nothing!
Three days go by - other than the pidgins there is nothing.
Ah, the sparrows have returned, the blackbirds return. Then – joy of joys - three blue-tits are checking out my bird-box – for a second time!
Peter, a neighbour, installed a birdbath!
I WAITED THREE WEEKS until finally I witnessed my first blackbird taking a bath. I had to wait a further month for my 2nd blackbird. And then I witnessed my first sparrow taking a splash!
Slowly, slowly – to my great joy – a pair of sparrows, two starlings, the pidgins, some blue-tits (around my peanut feeder and checking out my bird-box for a third time!) and a robin, all seem to be coming back on a regular basis! Hopefully this is it!!! After all is said and done: it IS April!
HOORAY!
May arrived and slowly, slowly the sparrow population seem to explode as did the greedy and bad tempered starling. Fledglings of every variety – more so the sparrow and starling – appeared, gorging themselves on my fat-balls and bird seed, their little wings fluttering as their parents tried to keep up with their appetites!
THE HAWK?
The Hawk appeared in another garden down the road. A photograph was taken of it and if I can I’ll try and get it for you all to see (I failed).
Meanwhile it seems that the whole starling population seems to have invaded my garden, the sparrows have all but given up trying to compete for food as have all the other birds, ‘apart from the pidgins!’ Starlings seem to teach their young (fledglings) how to be SO aggressive: why this is I have no idea as I’m not an expert on ornithology, just a bloke who enjoys watching my garden’s birds! Oh well, at least I HAVE birds even if they are bloody starlings…and pidgins!
*******
AND SO: A POEM THAT REFLECTS
EVEN THE HUMBLE STARLING WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE, FOR IT IS WHAT IT IS!
THE GATHERER
Gather in me man beast insect and leaf
And I’ll let then all in
Gather in me trees that are my friends and allies
And I’ll let them all in
Gather in me the music of the elsewhere
And I’ll let them all in
Gather in me the technology of the ages
And I’ll let them all in
Gather in me stars moons and planets
And I’ll let them all in
Gather in me the storehouse of the galaxies
And I’ll let them all in
Gather in me the spirit and the essence of all things
For I am the Gatherer and I’ll let them all in
Gather in me the giver and the given
The creator and the created
For I am the all of it
The all and the sum-total.
First published in THE SEEKER.
ADIOS AMIGOS
LUV N‘ LITE N‘ LARFTER
Paul
*****
AUGUST BLURB 2011
HELLO AMIGOS!
About 40ish years ago when I was a novice clairvoyant and speaker I was hired by my local spiritualist church (Herne Bay) to take the service. My clairvoyance was lousy to say the least but I made up for it by my address. I don’t remember exactly what I said but I ended up quoting some verse by the ancient 15th Century so-called witch and clairvoyant MOTHER SHIPTON! I do remember however that there was a palpable buzz that went around the congregation when I finished. However – despite my awful clairvoyance – I was asked back. This time my clairvoyance was a wee bit better but my address was awful!
MOTHER SHIPTON
For some years I had been very impressed with MOTHER SHIPTON and her prophecies. For years after I could recite this piece of poetry, almost word for word, all these years later:
‘When men like birds shall scour the skies
The world deep drenched in blood shall die
For those who live the century through
In fear and trembling this will do.
Flee to the mountains and the dens
To bog and forest and wild fen.
For storms will rage and oceans roar
When Gabriel stands on sea and shore,
And as he blows his wondrous horn
Old worlds shall die and new be born!’
Mother Shipton was born Ursula Sontheil (or Southill) in 1488 in Norfolk, England. Her clairvoyant and psychic skills were present at a very early stage. At aged 24 she married Toby Shipton, a carpenter.
She started to have prophetic visions soon after and was then known as MOTHER SHIPTON. Whether she had children or not, I don’t know.
Apparently many of her predictions or visions came true within her own lifetime!
“Mother Shipton developed prophetic and psychic abilities from an early age. Many feared her and her mystical powers, which she always used to help people.
She wrote her prophecies about events to come in the form of verse. Despite the fact that not many people could read OR write in those days???
She lived in the time of Henry VIII of England and Elizabeth I. She predicted Henry’s victory over France in 1513: "Battle of the Spurs". She even prophesised the Dissolution of the Monasteries, which led to the redistribution of wealth and land held by the monasteries to the then coming middle classes and the existing noble families”.
Of course I can’t write all of her predictions for our future here as there isn’t room but I will try and scribe those that I find relevant to our age which I’ve taken the liberty of editing!”
MOTHER SHIPTON’S PROPHESIS (edited)
“Carriages without horse will go.” (Motor cars?) “Around the world men’s thoughts will fly quick as the twinkling of an eye”. (Radio and TV?) “Beneath the water men shall walk, shall ride, shall sleep, shall even talk.”(Submarines?) “And in the air men shall be seen.” (Airplanes?) “In water, iron then shall float as easy as a wooden boat!” (Modern ocean going liners etc?) “A house of glass shall come to pass, in England (The Crystal Palace?). “But alas, alas, a war will follow with the work where dwells the pagan and the turk” (????)” [Taken out of context]: The British olive shall next then twine in marriage with a German vine: Queen Victoria and Prince Albert?] ”Roaring monsters with men atop, does seem to eat the verdant crop.” (Combine harvester?) “And men shall fly as birds do now and give away the horse and plough.” (Tractors?) “Love shall die and marriage cease and nations wane as babes decrease.” (Life-partners instead of marriage? Over population?) ”This is then held year by year till an iron monster trembling fear, eats parchment, words and quill and ink and mankind is given time to think.” (These prophecies [for instance]: Typed and stored onto Personal Computers?) “The tides will rise beyond their ken to bite away shores and then and mountains will begin to roar and earthquakes split the plain and shore, and flooding waters rushing in will flood the land with such a din that mankind cowers in muddy fen and snarls about his fellow men.” (Earth changes?)”An earthquake swallow’s town and town in lands to me as yet unknown.” (Japan?) He bares his teeth and fights and kills and secrets food in secret hill and ugly in his fear, he lies to kill marauders, thieves and spies.” (Your guess is as good as mine! Perhaps NORAD: [North American Aerospace Defence Command] which holds vast amounts of food for the worst possible scenario, in a hill or bunker?) ”And when the dragon’s tail is gone man forgets, smiles and carries on.” “And they will send the dragon back to light the sky, his tail will crack and rend the earth and man will flee, king lord and serf.” (Comet?) “But slowly they are routed out to seek diminishing water spout and men will die of thirst before the oceans rise to mount the shore.” (Water shortage?) “And in some far-off distant land some men – oh such a tiny band - will have to leave their solid mount and span the earth those few to count, who survives this [unreadable] and then begin the human race again.” (You can’t keep the human race down!) “But not on land already there but on ocean beds, stark, dry and bare.” (Desert?) “Not every soul on earth will die as the dragon’s tail goes sweeping by (comet?), not every land on earth will sink, but these will wallow in stench and stink, of rotting bodies of beast and man, of vegetation crisped on land.” (We are possibly in for a rough ride!) “But the land that rises from the sea will be dry and clean and soft and free.” (That’s better!) “And before the race is built anew, a silver serpent comes to view and spew out men of like unknown to mingle with the earth now grown and these men can enlighten the minds of future men to intermingle and show them how to live and love and thus endow the children with the second sight (Indigo children? They are already here!), a natural thing so that they might grow graceful, humble and when they do the golden age will start anew!” (Help from the stars and other planets, other dimensions? Well who knows!)
*******
Of course through the ages – so they say – folk have added to these prophecies!
They now reside in the State Library in New South Wales, Australia. 30 Years ago a Nexus reader painstakingly transcribed them and smuggled them out (the transcription that is) of the library.
The originals were/are kept in a locked room together with many other prophetic writings seemingly unsuitable for viewing for the likes of us including what seems to refer to radiation sickness:
“And physics find no remedy;
For this is worse than Leprosy.
Oh many signs for all to see
The truth of this true prophecy!”
Sadly, Ursula Shipton was burned at the stake for the crime of so-called witchcraft! And she prophesised her own fate!
NOW – YOU’VE GUESSED IT!
HAPPINESS/GUILT
(For Peter)
Happiness is not for the been and gone
Nor is it in yesterday or tomorrow.
It is found when you least expect it,
When all hope is gone.
It is found not in the near or far
But in the every day,
In the now of things;
Be not undeserving of happiness,
Do not cultivate guilt.
Be happy for happiness sake.
Guilt is for the guilty
Happiness is for the happy
And the happiness is found:
In YOU!
ADIOS AMIGOS!
Paul Bura
JULY BLURB 2011
HELLO AMIGOS!!
Every now and then – in-between imbecilic stuff as recipes for curry and recipes for various pasta sauces and so on, although I enjoy it immensely AND the eating thereof – I feel the urge to be sensible and write such things as ‘poor mans philosophy’. You see I can’t help it and am annexable drawn to making suggestions for improving your life – or not as the case may be. These last 18 months or so I haven’t been able to - what you may call a ‘dry period’! But I digress, so here goes:
CHANGING FREQUENCIES
Deep inside the Self (which most consider to be the ME-SELF or I-SELF) lies another Self: the – seemingly - unconscious self, the higher self, the soul-self, the God-spark, linking you to ALL THAT IS.
It is this Self who is witness to all you say and do, a witness to the many selves that you (ego) and you alone create. It is this same Self that you must try and bring to the surface of your being and make conscious, this is one and the same as expressed in terms of the ‘Highest Love’ and yet is capable of the ‘lowest negativity’. And yet all is ONE! Yes, I know: it would appear a contradiction in terms!
Balance is a word easily expressed yet hard, very hard, to achieve in the world, very hard. If we could only give voice and practice to the use of the word balance then surely ALL our Birthdays would come at once, and we would achieve perfection in the expression of love!
Perfect balance = perfect love. They are One and the Same!
A physical analogy of the word balance (love) is a SEE-SAW: you have to have complete perfection in weight (energy: consciousness) on either side to create perfection in balance: a perfect straight line: which is neither one thing nor the other. Why? Because it’s all ONE! If it were not so one half of this SEE-SAW would be up and the other down no matter how close to the scale it may be!
Perfect balance therefore is a witness to itself and that Self (higher and lower) is LOVE!
All things are created out of LOVE, love is the very essence of your being and yet it is the mystery of mysteries, the whole of creation packed inside a tiny human being, in fact ALL beings throughout the vastness of space and time! And yet it is yours for the asking: that small, still voice within you, acknowledging your cries of help. You see, it isn’t easy – oh didn’t I mention that?
It takes many acts of random kindness, and recognition of the ‘act of compassion’ to get there. Oh, then there is the ‘many lives’ syndrome. You didn’t think that you could do it in one lifetime, did you?
It is hoped however that you realise that there is no such thing as ‘death’. Oh death in-as-much as: death to one thing IN ORDER to realise the greater REALITY of another!
But if you are taught in 3-dimensional reality (Earth life) that to die is to be extinguished, snuffed-out like a candle flame; or if you are programmed with a religion that teaches: when you die you will not be awakened until ‘the last trump!’ is sounded, AND YOU BELIEVE THIS then it is so, it becomes a reality! Until you come to your senses and cry out: I’M SO LONELY, I COULD DO WITH A HUG AND A PIECE OF LOVE!
All religions teach about the ‘after life’, some good some bad. However, if you do not fear death, and that is the key word: fear, you have nothing to worry about! You may fear the method of which you will die, but for most of you that is a natural thing and you need not dwell on it – though some do!
99.9% of you change frequencies (die to earthly reality, 3D reality) and meet your old friends and family and get that overwhelming feeling of ‘Having Come Home’ (your true Home), the overwhelming feeling of being wanted and above all: LOVED! And when you hit the 4th dimension (or beyond) YOU ARE!
******* AND NOW A POEM, OR HAIKU:
It is foolishness
To ponder on what death is
Rather what life means!
FAREWELL AMIGOS
UNTIL NEXT MONTH!
Paul.
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WHAT'SNEW!
"The most brilliant and comprehensive collection of poems in this poet's repertoire to date. From his poem 'JEW', a powerful and moving piece, to his narrative poem 'REVENGE'. But worry not, folks, his brilliant humour is alive and very firmly intact and is here in abundance!"
RU ELLIOT, poet and storyteller.
Pause for Poetry
I started my Pause for Poetry series about two weeks after I started blogging. That was a year ago. The first P for P was kicked off by a wonderful poet and friend of mine, Paul Bura, who has been writing poems for centuries, perhaps even longer.
He has published about 10 anthologies of poems as well as a novel and a thought-provoking book about crop circles.
His latest anthology of poems hot off the press is The Red Kite. If you know and love Paul’s poetry then you’ll love this book. If you’re new to his work then you’ll also love this; and then you will want to seek out his previous tomes.
Spike Milligan was a fan and wrote:
“Paul Bura is a straight down-the-line poet. He is sensitive and emotional, a journalistic poet with a good sense of imagery”.
In a foreword to an earlier anthology, Brand New, I wrote:
“And yet he is more than just a journalistic poet, although he himself writes that he strives to be “just a poet”. His talent lies in his deceptively simple style that lures us so effortlessly into his world. He leads us down paths we never imagined existed; he can also take us down well-trodden paths we know and make us see them anew. Knowing Paul, he would probably add he sometimes leads us up the garden path as well . . . He’s a poet who cares . . . Just another poet? I don’t think so.”
Christy Brown enthused:
“I laughed out loud in my midnight room at some of his tough, witty descriptions of childhood, smiled sadly at his love encounters, and groaned when he struck a certain all too responsive chord within myself. He has a voice that would make Dylan Thomas growl in his grave with envy”.
Ian Dury said:
“This geezer says it the way it is”.
But don’t just read our words about this unique poet – go buy his books and find out for yourself!
JULIAN YOUNG Paris, France.
Julian Young is an editor for The International Herald Tribune.
Price: £5.95 [more] [order]
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PETER CHISHOLM
"THE LEMON TREE"
by
Paul Bura
"The Lemon Tree is extremely moving"
- Leslie Toll ( DAILY MAIL)
"This is a gentle book filled with love, laughter, great sorrow and greater joy and beauty, of gifts given and those remembered and put into use again, of power and helplessness. It's a story of love both temporal and spiritual, joining both worlds and all worlds reminding us that our "reality" encompasses far more than we can possibly imagine, for if we could we would be living a life far different than most of us now do. Tucked in the centre of this tale is a friendship reminiscent of Carlos and Don Juan, tales of power and oneness, challenge and courage. Filled with devotion and adventure, this book is a must read for it flowed through me so gently and with such love as is rarely seen in print today filling the nooks and crannies of my soul with healing grace, and I wish this for everyone."
- Carol Crow (BLACK SHEEP magazine, U.S.A)
Price: £8.25 [more] [order]
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THE FLUTE PLAYER
(True Account)
The noose lay around the prisoners' neck,
Mind racing ahead of the crime on his shoulders,
Of the crazed young drug-head - and musician - that he was;
Soon it would be over, this physical flame fluffed out!
His religion taught
Of hell's torment for all eternity:
But he also knew of: "the prisoners' last request!"
In that moment of clarity he called for his flute!
The hangman's eyes widened,
The prisoners request was respected.
This magical friend in time of great need
Whose music would accompany him, sustain him
Even unto hell itself.
He was calm now as he bent his head
Putting the flute to his lips;
He drew in his breath,
Paused
Then gently blew such beauty out onto the calm, clear air,
And into the ethers; it soared above and around the ears
Of all that heard, prisoners and prison warders alike,
Beauty of such clarity, such sweetness that it scattered all before it:
Above his head and out of the little room
Where he stood on the scaffold
The noose still around his neck
As he dipped his head forward
To play his flute!
It melted the hearts of the parents
Whose son this drug crazed flute player had killed!
And when the music was at an end,
When the silence roared,
Then the tears came.
They - the parents - had a change of heart
And pardoned him, this young flute player,
As was their right in that far eastern country of Iran,
As was their right to do so!
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FROM THE PENDRAGON
I grew up as an only - but not lonely - child in a small market town wedged between the bustling metropolis of Manchester, and the lonely windswept Pennine moors. Left to my own devices, I was comfortable with my own company, with countless hours spent alone in the backyard of the small terraced house I called home. It wasn't until I coded "Little Restaurant" that I realised just what I had missed being part of a family of children, playing together, and getting involved in scrapes as kids do. I was a small, weak child, and was inevitably bullied on a daily basis by my peers. What I wouldn't have given to have had an elder brother like Paul to fight my battles for me and defend me, as Josie and Mel did.
And that is just what Paul has become to me - an elder brother, an inspiration, someone who'll listen - and despite what he has written, knows exactly what to say. What are words anyway - as "Conversations With God" says "words are the most ineffective form of communication" - "feelings are the language of the soul". But in the hands and the mind of a skilled wordsmith like Paul, feelings and words become as one
What if there is a breakdown of communication between the mind, and the hands that drive the keyboard, or wield the pen ? Spend a few minutes in Paul's presence, and words almost become superfluous. God gives each of us a talent, and it is my pleasure and privilege to use the talents I have been given, to make it possible for Paul's work to reach across the globe to touch the hearts and minds of thousands of people.
Paul, your arms may be getting weaker, but you have the heart and courage of a lion, and an infinite capacity to love. You are the big brother I never had, the big brother I never knew I needed until I met you. Just wanted to let you know. I love you bro
We all need a lift from time to time, so if your life has been better for having met Paul, or read his work, - as mine has - why not drop Paul a mail and let him know - The Pendragon |
