It's 3:00am in the morning, I am standing outside, the wind curls around me lightly and the sky is illuminated with stars.  The moon shines down, large as a house, overseeing the night sky, the air is warm and I feel like I belong in another world.

I move into the garden and stop by the Maple Tree, her new leaves just starting to unfurl, rich green of new life, the promise of the summer and the wonder of the conversion of our breath into oxygen that we need so much.  I can never understand why we don't have more value for these wonderful beings.  We cut them down, we trim them to what we perceive is beautiful.   They bleed trees, like us when they are hurt, but their cries go unheard by ears that stopped listening a long time ago.   The grass is hums lightly beneath my feet, ever growing, ever listening to the pulse of the planet.

I sit on the lawn and listen, lay back and look at the night sky.   The earth hums, the grass whispers it's age old song and I watch the Angels drop from the skies and land lightly on the lawn around me.    The dimensions shift and past, present and future blend.    If I was cynical, the human side of me, would believe nothing that I see, nothing that happens everyday around people, the non coincidental coincidences.  The syncroniscity of events, the ebb and flow of time.    It's a good thing I am not.   I would not trade the experiences I have for anything else in the world.

There is so much discussion about Angels, what their purpose is, what they help us with, where they reside.  In doing the work I have, I have been blessed to see them, large, small, brilliantly lit, subtly detailed, shimmering and unique.     We all have a role to play here on the journey on the earth plane.   These special beings, they have their roles to play as well, in support, love, kindnesses and understanding.

I sit up on the lawn and watch, lightly touching down before me, a tall man, dressed in shimmering blues, hazel eyes, windswept hair, colours shimmering, blending, separating.   Wings in moonlight shades, blues, indigos and golden, flip lightly behind him as he alights.  A whisper as quiet as a sigh as the wings fold into place.  He glows moonlit luminousness, even in the shade of the Maple.    Hazel eyes glow, with the shades of the cosmos, wisdom and understanding, he comes closer.  More are landing, they are not for me, they are here for all.  I am just blessed to be in the right place.  The dimensions shift and realities bend around these beautiful beings.

He crouches down and lightly touches my face, the whisper of wings, melody of the ages,  kindness abounds. He smiles and I feel like I have been touched by something amazing, been gifted by his smile.  His eyes crinkle and I am embraced in moonlit light.  "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"  The question floats around me, through me, gentle as a breeze.   "I miss too much" I answer in thought and musical tones, tinkling in delight as the air around me resonate with laughter.   He leans closer, there is other worlds, higher understanding and wisdom of the ages in these eyes that survey me so kindly, so gently and so lovingly.   In answer to my silent question "Yes, we hear and yes, we come. Always remember that the Angels will hear, for the World of Angels is a step away, a doorway, always open, always listening".   The lightest touch on the tip of my nose and the tinkling musical laughter, light as a feather crosses my mind, he stands and light intensifies around him.

They are so surreally beautiful, all shades, all colours, all sizes and shapes.   The realities bend and like stars realigning, the lawn clears like shooting stars in reverse.    In the light of the love, energy and harmony surrounding me departed, the lawn feels empty, abandoned.  The grass echos with the light tones of harmony, musical notes fading in the shooting leaves of the Maple.  This reality less intense, less sensory, had I ever left?

I wiggle my toes in the moonlit grass, and survey the skies again.   The moon shines in her wisdom and small clouds scuttle like crabs across her surface.  The window of light will soon be gone as the clouds build to block out the starry skies.    I am here in this world, but the magic of other worlds is never far away, and the World of the Angels is always close, always listening, every present in the tapestry of the dimensions.    I hug this knowledge like a blanket and tip toe through the house to bed.    A step away, a thought away, never forget.