"Who am I..."

Dreams. I slept for 18 hours or more. I don't know how it came to be, but it did. I Traveled, and learned. This was a hymn from the Jews, and others to me. I dreamed so many dreams all inter-connected. I'd wake, but when asleep again the same cycle waited for me. Even the same people sometimes.

The realms of Judaism Mother of all Peoples of the Book sang to me.

I was shown, and taught it's purposes wisdoms, and love. The main lesson was that all are good. "All". No matter who where or what.

I was on a plane no ticket passport just on it. It landed or rather appeared in Israel. It's history played out for me as if I floated above it. The good, and bad. I saw the cruelties wars...all of them. I was plainly told that it was the greed for power by the chiefs generals, and world brokers of power that made them all happen.

The people all the peoples of the region wanted to live in peace wanted to enjoy their communality. Soldiers all of them were deceived used, and slaughtered in their many thousands for the power of the few.

As it is in war. All wars.

I was shown taught the mysteries of the beginnings of the Faith. Which I was also told had no real difference from any other than form. It was so beautiful so full of kindness, and love as they all at heart are.

I was embraced into it's meditations, and wonders. So many souls spoke to me were kind to me loved me. This is what I always wanted what everyone at heart wants.

To belong to love, and be loved.

This no matter who you are what you are or where you are. Dream after dream told me this in many ways.

In these dream-time events I was wandering villages cities country sides from different times, and ages. However always the same message. The people want loving kindness the kings, and the mad want division, and murder.

Even as I write it lives again in my mind's eye.

Miracles were performed. wise words written read, and enacted. I must say again the sense of kindness was ever present. My anger, and cynicism were put to rest in this place.

People of every kind even children taught me in the ways of patients compassion, and empathy. This despite my angers ego resentments, and old sins I've dragged around for a lifetime.

A boy a sweet yeshiva boy led me over a hill,....

Then a wide desert. Night. I was among the Mothers of the Dream Time. The Aboriginal folk of what we call Australia. They were all looking up. Up into a sky full of more stars than I thought existed.

A wind blew. A wind full of song.

I stood among them, and watched eternity. I now wonder if these makers of the Dream Time were the ones that called to me. That showed me the Mother of the Book, and it's reasons for being.

Who am I that Angels would speak to?