Isaiah and I took pleasure in the others’ company. It was as if the recent experience with the Master had required us both to cast our spirit free upon the sands of restfulness. Not that we both felt in any way traumatised. Rather, it was as if we needed to assimilate the transformation. Sitting on the balcony of my abode as we were, we interspersed our recollections and conversations with giant pauses of, well, just sitting. It seemed to provide both the luxury of repose mixed with the elements of wonder and magnitude. We even took time to speculate about what we may achieve as we both evolved forward.

      I was most eager to see my newfound knowledge used to its greatest effect for the many in need of its succour. Isaiah expressed the similar, but more to correct some of the errors and misdirection of religious and spiritual instruction for those with open ears. The reality was, however, that we were none the wiser as to how we could achieve such ends. I mean, to cross (back) over. To break open the veils between heaven and earth so that those with open hearts may hear. To cross the border and cast what we now know to be true to those in need was, for us, a grand undertaking. Yet one we knew not how to achieve.

      ‘I guess when the time is right, we will know what to do?’ he said as I nodded my agreement. ‘Isn’t that how it works? I mean, two eager disciples, as we are, will surely not be left to rest in repose as we attend future revelation.’

      It was right about that same moment that we saw her approaching through the garden. A stranger by regard, but not by a smile. A person unknown to both Isaiah and I, yet not without the bounty of love that preceded her introduction. Her mastery evidenced by the blue and yellow radiance festooned within the glimmer of her robe. When we saw the variant colours, we knew instantly that her being was filled with both the wisdom of truth and the grace of charity.

      ‘May I join you?’ she asked with an open-handed gesture that spoke of a joyous welcome of its own.

     ‘By all means,’ I replied, as I positioned a chair such that she could join us in welcome communion on the balcony.

     Both Isaiah and I rose in anticipation of greeting and thus had the opportunity to make first impressions of the delightful soul who joined our small gathering. Her flawless skin, though dark, seemed to radiate a lightness that bespoke of the purity of her heart. Her eyes were like pools of obsidian that seemed to find no depths in their well. Yet, despite her grace, her dignity seemed only a reflection of her humility and compassion. 

      She required no need of our introduction for she spoke as if old friends, but told us that on earth, many centuries ago, she was known as Olivia, but that here, her ‘nom d’heaven’ was Cassiel. Pleasantries were cast forward and the grace of our Father’s heaven was much discussed before she broke word to the purpose of her visitation.

     ‘I come bearing the gift of your desire. I am sent as the Hierophant to further guide your education about the laws of heaven. Blessed knowledge that will serve you well on your quest to bridge the gulf between heaven and earth - for such cannot be used with malice or misdirection. It is only with the blessed touch of divine reason that this wisdom is freely given.’

      By glancing askance to quickly view the eagerness of my expression, Isaiah confirmed our earnest commitment to our task and implored her further elucidation of what we most needed to commence our journey.

     ‘Come then, let us be away. There is much that I need to show you,’ she said standing to gently extort us to do the same.

Within but the fleeting moment of Cassiel’s directive thought, we trio stood upon a small hilltop. The vista over which we laid collective eyes seemed but a short distance away, but far enough that we remained objective observers to the events as they unfolded. In amazement, what we saw impacted Isaiah so much that he could not restrain his exclamation of awe.

      ‘By the grace of God,’ he exclaimed. ’I have never witnessed such as that which now lays open before me. The closest I can resemble my observations to my previous life is that it is much akin to a train station of embarking and departing passengers.’

      ‘This analogy serves in close description to what is in effect happening,’ replied Cassiel.

      ‘Look,’ I said pointing. ‘There, besides that grand oak tree. There seems such a great reunion between separated kin. A mother and child perhaps? And look! What are all those silver cords leading from many hearts that stretch across the ethers and over the mists?’ There was so much going on that I could scarcely describe one scene without being distracted by another.

      ‘Watch as their story is told and I will do my utmost to describe events for you,’ said Cassiel as we stood in silent amazement as the proceedings unfolded.

The mother, having hugged her son in a loving embrace, now moved to sit under the grand protection of the oak tree with her kin, whereby she commenced speaking in earnest to his open ears.

     ‘What does she speak of?’ I asked.

     ‘Her son is much in need of guidance in his life and is sorely tempted to pursue a path that would not be in his eternal best interest. She seeks to instruct him in a manner that will secure him in the pursuit more fitting to his future progress.’

     Isaiah turned suddenly from his riveted attention to stare fixedly at Cassiel’s declaration.

     ‘But how? Is he not … dead and already passed to our abode here in heaven?’

      Her smile of knowing did much to relieve both our pent-up inquisitiveness and augmenting frustration.

     ‘By no means. He will soon return to where he may, or may not, express the wisdom he has learned. The gift of free-will is forever writ as law upon the flesh.’

     ‘But how …?’ I said in equal surprise to Isaiah.

     ‘This, what you witness, is the meeting place. It is where those that sleep on earth can renew acquaintance with that kin with whom they are connected in love. Do you see those many silver cords attached to those many hearts? Do you see how they arc over the mists?’

     Neither Isaiah nor I could respond, being struck by amazement as we were, but our collective nod was enough for our guide to proceed in explanation.

     ‘These are visiting souls who, while in the depth of sleep, can join loved ones upon their request. Their spirit is attached to their body through the silver cord that you witness. It is only when this silver cord is broken that their journey to heaven is considered ‘one way’, and they pass through the mists of judgement.’

      ‘Do you mean to say that all souls, when asleep, can connect with those they love?’ I asked in earnest.

     ‘Yes, of course. Love is the bridge, and as long as it remains strong and true, then one may call upon the other to guide and assist.’

     ‘But this is extraordinary,’ replied Isaiah. ‘If only such were known by many on earth. That one could connect with those we love beyond the veil. It would change much about how life is lived and in communion with those that have passed.’

     ‘Yes, it would. It is for this very reason that I have brought you here. To witness the magnificence of our Father’s love for his children.’

      ‘Cassiel, do you mean to explain that the process of sleep whilst on earth is more than just a cause for the physical body to rest and recuperate from its travails?’ I hastened to inquire further.

     ‘Oh, yes, much more. Think about it this way. When the human body rests, so does the mind. In such quietude, the spirit is free to explore the pathway between that which is on earth to that which is in heaven. No coercion or control is exercised, rather, the key is love and a heartfelt earnest desire to seek remedy and wisdom for life’s burdens and hurdles that will enable the soul to bridge the veil by visitation.’

     ‘But how are they to know? How do they remember? How do they discern what is a dream and what is, well, real? If such connection is true, then much grief for loss would lessen in the knowledge.’

     ‘These are astute questions and observations, dear Athar. Let us, therefore, stroll amongst those that arrive. Perhaps then we can discern answers that as yet remain elusive.’