Galactic Federation Calling Miranda

Illustrations

Illustrations for Book I

1—God’s Crystal Heart

2—The Clock of Light

3—Family Gathering in Heavenly Portal

4—Mr. Hardy in Classroom

5—The Labyrinth

6—Janice Buttons’ Bedroom

7—Purification Pool with Atlantean Fresco

8—Celebration at Dirty Dack’s

9—The Sphinx Guarding Melanie

10—Romeo’s Escape

11—The Birth

12—Tigerlilly Revealing a Past Life

13—The Roshell Connection from Flanders

14—The Crystal Planet Star Man

15—Majestical Griffin God

16—The Coding

17—Merry Go Round, Journey of Life

18—Katapeltes Flew Over the Moon

19—Mt. Ararat

20—The Heavenly Orchestra

21—Phoenix Rises from the Ashes

22—The Devil’s Story

Illustrations for Book II

23—Sandstone Enclosure, Ayers Rock

24—Lemuria Civilisation: Atlantis

25—The Colonies

26—Crystal Being Ayers Rock

27—Dr. Stern and Rubin in Uranium Mine

28—Planet Saturn—The Mapping System

29—Recherché Bay Steal the Booty, Game

30—The Meeting—Ayers Rock

31—Lemuria’s Transformation

32—The Monk

33—The New Earth

Illustrations for Book III

34—Remember Me

35—Another Portal of Existence

36—Carriage and Soul Mates

37—River to El Dorado

38—Cowboy Boot

39—Salamander in the Dead Sea Tunnel

40—Obstacle Course

41—Planet Heaven, Hospital Tower

42—Grand Finale, Chaco Canyon

43—The Next Plane & Beyond

44—The Tail Parade

45—The Premiere

46—The Himalayan Clothes Rack

Acknowledgements

Thank you to all environmental heroes on Earth and from other planes.

Cheers! To my friends and family who made this possible. Special thanks go to the I Am; Salamander the Master; Cee, my grandmother; Pa; The Crocodile Man; Tigerlilly; Dwayne and my spiritual ancestors Albert and Sara-Louisa.

The Nymph in the first part of this story represents Miranda’s higher self or conscience. I have used the symbol of a shell to demonstrate this inner wisdom and speech. I have used Bold to show shift in to a dream. In parts two and three I do not use Bold as there is no distinction between dream and reality. What we dream about at night and what we experience during the day become interwoven and from this emerges the journey of life. Through reconciliation and growth in Miranda’s life, Miranda journeys full circle with both realities.

This is a fictional story; my ideas are a combination of memoirs, channelled dreams, and also from what I have learned from other spiritual teachings and works. I have expressed this in a creative inspirational way. I have referred to the I Am, the Divine or God-Self as neither gender. I believe God is spirit therefore, gender-free and an energy source that we are all able to tap into. I hope as you read this book you gain a deeper meaning of life. Form your own opinions and make decisions for yourself. Take what resonates with you and leave the rest.

—Penelope Cuthridge.

Book I

The Nymph

Chapter 1

Porteous and The Clock of Light

I open my eyes! Realise I am floating above my body and bed, strangely I’m not afraid just curious, there I am a petite nine-year-old curled into a ball asleep and breathing. My room is slightly blurred but I can make out my dolls cot with Nessie and Cinnamon, they soothe any fear that perhaps I am dead! Knowing full well that when you die you don’t take earthly possessions with you. I can see a night lamp and my dad’s brown leather encased transistor on my dressing table it plays my favourite tune, I find myself humming along. Billy don’t be a hero. I can hear drums beating like in a marching band. I glance towards my door its open a crack I notice the light behind it is blinding, my patterned nymph wallpaper shimmers and grows before my eyes, a hole appears. I zoom towards it … Billy don’t be a hero …

I am dreaming of a time long ago on Earth. It is ancient Grecian times; the world is full of wonders. One of these wonders is a giant God named Porteous. He is the Creator, a father figure and watches over Mother Earth and her people. He is not only a father figure but a friend, everyone is family. In the beginning, the Earth people dwell in peace. A beautiful land surrounds them and they have the watchful eye of their God, Porteous. If they are too cold Porteous moves the sun closer, if the sun is too hot he shades them from its rays. No job is too much for Porteous and he truly loves all. Porteous is curious about how humans live their lives, nothing pleases him more than to see them happy and harmonious. He thrives on their happy existence, shares in their humour. As for Gods size, he is proportionally huge, part of him is only ever glimpsed at one time. He appears like a massive energy field of bright light through the mist, a mysterious and indescribable being. When Porteous makes his presence known, the skies open to reveal a gaping hole vibrating like a beating heart. I say skies because we are high up on a mountaintop surrounded by mist and cloud. The heart sits encased in a quartz crystal with shimmering light, God is like the Himalayan mountains, he is all around us. The heart crystal directs and increases Divine energy. The people are always in awe of God’s greatness and wisdom and at first are content with sensing his presence rather than seeing it all the time.

It is fortunate that Porteous is a father and friend. For when Porteous speaks, there is such strength in his sound, that his vibration becomes a tornado and clears paths instantly. The people have to hide indoors and hope that the roofs of their homes will hold. This is why the giant god Porteous loves them at a distance. He is just too strong and big to fathom on a small scale. Porteous speaks to the people quietly in their mind so that he will not hurt them. He is wise too and leaves them alone to settle their own problems.

This co-existence has been going on for generations. The people call on him when they need him. Being human the people have high opinions of themselves. They sometimes assume an arrogant tone with the God or among one another. They are full of self-importance and assume that Porteous needs them more than they need him. After all, they are many and he is only one. Porteous laughs at their nerve, never becoming angry as it isn’t in his nature. Occasionally Mother Earth shakes them all up a bit; to remind the human people we are all family and living in unison. Porteous tells the people after such an occasion as this, that he is not the only one of his kind. Porteous like the human people has siblings and parents and relatives. They watch over universes of their own. The people are afraid at first and do not believe the god. But they reason, perhaps this is why Porteous is not always around. Most of the people gather around and ask questions about God’s universes and a home planet called Heaven. But some wonder if there are other Gods if Porteous is replaceable.

Why can’t we come to this other planet now and see it for ourselves? asks Newton, an outspoken human.

You will all come one day but for now you must be happy and live your lives here. Trust that I am always here for you, just call on me.

Yes! However, we see less and less of you. How can we call on something that is not visible?

Porteous is disappointed that a few are turning against him and not loving him unconditionally. He tries very hard after this to please his people; he provides them with new plants and exotic fruits. He helps to build crafts to play in and explore the seas all over the world. He gives them independence and knowledge so that they will not rely so much on him. He encourages them to build a temple that overlooks the Himalayas, that way they will feel closer to his presence. Still, there are some who scoff and complain of his absence.

One day everyone is outdoors enjoying a lovely morning. A naughty group of individuals suddenly burst into the town yelling that a huge cloud is heading their way. Everyone in town races to this well-known temple on the hill, Home of the Dog! Built for the townsfolk to be closer to Porteous, a place of peace where you gain a sense of purpose in life, a philosophy to follow, where everyone does their duty, does the right thing and is respectful of others. Caught up in the drama of it all, I race along after the crowd and climb up to see.

God’s Crystal Heart

Inside the temple, the fog has parted in the sky and the snow-capped Himalayas are clearly visible through the arches. Townsfolk line up facing a Shih Tzu dog on a pedestal, a golden curtain hangs behind it. I push to the front just as the dog opens its jaws and photos exit, vomit from its mouth. Everyone scrambles to grab one, I take several and notice one is of my brother Bart and I. Behind me a disgruntled man complains to the dog that I took three as opposed to the one at a time rule. I recognise the voice as belonging to the disruptive man, but he has moved away quickly towards the open arches and the distant mountains.

Look closely here it comes, says Newton this same outspoken man who had been rude to Porteous previously, and is the newly appointed Mayor.

He has grown fatter uglier his eyes are bloodshot and protrude from his eye sockets.

Sure enough, the cloud is huge and black and swirling towards us threateningly. Some of the people think it could be another god. Although the land is turning dark and cold, some of its people welcome the approaching giant god. They are seeing that Porteous is not around often enough. Perhaps this other god will stay permanently and be just as knowledgeable and kind as Porteous. Most of the people flee in terror and call out to Porteous to save them and save himself.

Come out right now Porteous, another giant god comes to fight with you, Newton says.

Porteous appears then in the skies but he does not increase in size or prepare to fight. God is of love giving energy not destined for war. This people reason is why he appears to wither and die before them. The cloud of blackness has smothered Porteous in one fell swoop. A sorrowful cry goes up and over the land and many grow angry at the dark god for killing Porteous. Those who have turned against him grow fearful because the God of Love has now been replaced with one of fear. But Newton puffs his chest proudly and grows before our eyes pleased by the havoc he has caused.

A young boy Giddy who had been prodding and taunting a lizard in childish play pushes his way through the throng of angered people. He drops on his haunches cries up towards the dark sky as he holds a dead bloodied lizard in his hand, a stick juts out from its tail.

I didn’t mean to hurt it I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Porteous bring it back please.

People turn to stare at the sad figure. Newton steps forward to look down on Giddy.

Look at you a pathetic mouse praying, what makes you so special huh!

As he walks away disgusted he calls to the townsfolk, Run! Take cover, save yourself our God has deserted us.

As Giddy remains on the stone floor alone afraid he searches the sky for a glimmer of light, he sees it! But as he scans the hilltop excitedly to tell others, he realises all the townsfolk have fled. The only life remaining is the small lizard without its tail, that begins to wriggle in his palm.

Porteous has not died or disappeared of course, as our God is all and cannot be vanquished. His visits have become less and less frequent because people are not calling him. God is there always but they cannot see him through all the darkness. The shadow of fear the people have created we label the devil. Through doubt, negativity and selfish behaviour it is growing with a powerful force but some with faith fight on to believe in light.

I will care for creatures great and small, I swear! I swear! I swear it! Chants Giddy, he races from the temple on a mission.

Wait! I take a few steps after him, but the dog’s bark stills me!

A Chinese gentleman with a kind face moves out from behind the curtain he carries a broom. Two other characters appear and begin to sweep the dusty floor in a playful manner bit by bit. He speaks to me in my mind.

I’m Confucius! I help people to see! You do not understand how valuable you are to all of us. I am not far away if you need me, but now I have to go!

Zap!

Bugger Bum!

I’m back and I wake to my fathers’ crude call of Wakey wakey wakey!

Drats, time to get ready for school; my father Kevin is standing in the doorway to my bedroom, I can make out his red hair messily swept forward in 70’s bowl style. I am still half asleep and feel little like getting out of my warm bed and going about my usual day. My dream is more appealing than facing what is occurring in my present life; I want to see what havoc the black cloud spreads and understand more and who is Confucius! I shake my head to clear my thoughts, try unsuccessfully to sink back into that slumber, but dad will not be deterred.

Wakey wakey wakey! Upski.

Righto! I yell, annoyed.

This irritation stems from the fact that my dad has woken me instead of Mum. Why doesn’t Mum wake me anymore? I love Dad but miss Mum. My mother, Lorene, labelled eccentric independent had left us recently with hardly a glance in our direction; I was just eight years old at the time. The suitcase stood in the open doorway and a taxi hummed at the end of our driveway. A brief goodbye! Then the realisation set in. It was over. Mum was gone. She was not coming back.

Walking down our steep curved driveway on my way to school, I stop abruptly, look up at the sky. I squint heavenward as the sun blazes in my eyes. I experience an odd sensation. It is as though I am communicating with the unknown. I feel that I do not belong here. I do not want to be here. I want to ask, Who am I? Why am I here? I feel confused and fearful. A momentary loss of memory? A panic starts building deep in the pit of my stomach and tears well in my eyes. The daze lasts a few seconds before I return to my reality. Instantly I know who I am, I am Miranda Brownhill, it is 1977. I live with my father and brother Bartholomew; I am nine years old embarking on my fourth year at school. The dream has unnerved me; I am sure that is it! I soon forget this revelation. On the other hand, maybe I just store it away in the deepest recess of my mind.

We live in Australia in a south-eastern suburb of Melbourne in a middle-class neighbourhood. I feel alone, depressed with my life. My mother has walked out, left us, leaving scars on us in different ways. My brother, Bart, is angelic in appearance blond blue-eyed a joker of sorts but deeply disturbed. My dad is preoccupied, distant always holding on by a thin thread. I am bitter, lonely, finding comfort in friends. I have a bleak hope of a better future.

I guess on reflection; I saw the signs of my parents’ break-up. The independent, selfish acts performed by both of them. What stood out the most, the final clincher was when a man arrived one day to take our piano. Mum was an excellent pianist - my dad’s parents had given Mum an upright grand piano as a present. She played beautifully; we spent many happy days around the piano. Mum had come from a musically talented family.

The piano is a symbolic item to me; it stands for stability, family unit and fun times. Once removed, nothing felt right anymore, the foundation of our family was shaken and destroyed. The day the man arrived and wheeled the piano down the drive and into his van, it ended my illusion of family bliss. We watched in stunned silence as mum took the two hundred dollars from the man and the piano disappeared off into the distance. Mum had sold the piano because she wanted the money toward a party she was having with a girlfriend. Her thirty-third birthday had marked a memorable occasion to all of us. It was her exit from our family life.

I hear too late my Brother yell from behind, What a specky!

As his knees impact my back, I fall face to the ground and see Barts evident show of concern briefly before he races down Braewood avenue after his Richmond footy. Dad hasn’t left for work today as he has an appointment by chance, he hears the commotion and arrives to see my crumpled form at the bottom of the drive, I’m ok a little grazed and dizzy. He carries me indoors to bed and I wonder now if it was fate that this happened today of all days because what I came to dream during my concussed state opens up a hornet’s nest.

As you have heard my life is quite humdrum since my mother’s departure. My days seem to merge into one another and many events that take place I can’t recall later. It begins as I lay in my bed concussed staring at my bedroom wallpaper. My Mum had decorated my room the year before she left. It is a repeating pattern of a naked woman, who is a nymph. A nymph is - a goddess of nature, inhabiting the mountains, woods and streams. A light, charming, graceful young lady posed in a sitting position. Pink, white, and silver grey details frame her image. The lady has long wavy hair that drapes subtly over her breasts, I feel my senses drift as I focus on her hair, my eyes get heavy.

Zap!

The room takes on a chilly atmosphere. I have always been afraid of the dark and at night a lamp shines at my bedside table, however, its daylight I see through a crack in my drawn curtains. I can feel a slight breeze blowing, hear a buzzing sound like bees. I can even see the Lady’s hair on the wallpaper moving gently. The image makes me recollect the large medieval tapestries that adorn walls in ancient castles. It is eerie, lifelike. As I concentrate on the moving patterns, my eyes become unfocussed. I can see beyond the pattern into another room, another dimension. I can just make out a small dark hole. It seems to be getting bigger and is making sucking noises a bit like a vacuum cleaner without a nozzle.

There is a loud POP and two little children appear from the hole in a burst of bright light. They greet me with a bow and then proceed to tell me telepathically how excited they are to see me. They jump up and down enthusiastically, in a re-enactment of the spectacular mark my brother took on my back causing my injury. I realise I do not know them but strangely I’m not annoyed by their antics.

Of course we are happy because we know you, they giggle in unison. One day you will remember who we are too!

On closer inspection, I realise that they are twins, three years of age at the most. Oh dear! I pinch myself to see if I am awake, I look towards my bedroom door then at the foot of my bed at my green alien gonk! I focus on his large lifeless felt eyes.

Aghemm! The little girl seems to be the leader; I face her quickly.

She is blond with sparkling green hazel, almond shaped eyes. She is extremely pretty and sure of herself. She nudges her brother roughly and he steps forward. He is slightly smaller, a darker shade of blond hair, beautiful blue eyes and a mesmerising smile. He seems wise; I wonder which one is in charge. They nod in unison at this, it dawns on me that they work together. They consult each other on a regular basis, making decisions as a team. I also realise that the twins can read my mind and that I need to be careful.

Around their necks, the children wear a string with a crystal attached. The necklaces reflect and change shape into symmetrical rainbows just like a kaleidoscope. I learn that the twins’ names are Zac who is the boy and Zephyr, the girl. They are Crystal Children and have come to help change the Earth. They are the future!

What do you want with me? I ask. I have never felt overly important before and wondered what had changed.

You are going to help us!

Huh! I’m not sure, I need to check with my da….

Zac rolls his eyes There’s no time! Don’t you think we planned this to a T? they chirp.

Little do I know that this is the beginning of a journey of learning accompanied by two three-year-old children who speak to me in my head. Zac hands me a brown paper bag tied with hairs of different colours.

Fairy hairs, I hear immediately.

Open it, pipes in Zephyr.

Put it on, Zac orders.

Inside reveals a plain blue night garment with matching fairy hairs expertly woven through. The craftsmanship is surely not from this planet. The stitches are fine and unique. The children tell me proudly that they are the youngest to gain entrance to the Weaverend Lady’s Castle to help design my nymph garment.

I notice the twins have spun away and wait at the wall near the hole for me. They have risen a few inches off the ground tiny wings are exposed on the blades of their back. The children hover like hummingbirds; I wonder if I have grown some too.

Children are forbidden from Weaverend Castle because delicate and carefully crafted tapestries are sewn. Children in the castle would be like a bull in a china shop! The weavers are currently working on a special tapestry. It is a big secret! they chorus!

I have a fleeting glimpse of naughty children dashing through a castle upturning everything in their wake.

Giggling excitedly, the twins drag me into a tunnel. It pulsates like an umbilical cord and is flesh coloured, the hole closes over and scabs. Sssssllluuurrrppp! We are sucked along in the wind pipe. It reminds me of a wooden wiggle-snake toy, the joins give it manoeuvrability.

The tube stops suddenly and a window appears, outside I see the forest. It is Wambaland Forest and is just a few hundred metres from where I live, but nothing seems out of the ordinary.

Look hard, see the light Beings they perform a ceremony on a clock face. They are representatives of each of the planets in our universe. During the day, the Light Beings are not visible, at night you can see them by the light of their auras. For your benefit alone we are here today while your dad is at his appointment, and you are resting from the accident. Light Beings pray and chant for the well-being of the Earth. If the clock face stops, another Light Being is there to take the other’s place.

Look closer, block out all distractions. You see this better at night when everyone sleeps. It’s your higher self, in a dream state your spirit astral travels without the weight of your ego’s and heavy bodies.

OMG what I have no body? My brains intact, can I get back will I fall? I ask.

I have a vivid imagination you know, and I did bump my head! I can’t see a thing by the way.

Easy fixed, says an unseen voice from the front of the wiggle-snake.

My panicked state has caused my level of concentration to plummet, my body is thrown against the interior of the tunnel lining like I’m on the rota ride and gravity has me pinned. In surprise, I look up towards the driver to see who steers, but all I see is a hairy leg not much bigger than mine. Before I can ask how old he is, the wiggle-snake does a slower loop, the roof retracts! And we head backwards high in the sky. I feel like I’m on a pendulum ride but somehow it is smooth and gentle and when it has reached a peak above the trees, the tunnel stops and floats.

The Clock of Light

As I try to relax change my line of vision, my eyes lose focus I feel kind of cross-eyed, sleepy and then I see! Twelve sit around the circle of the clock face with one in the centre who completes the Clock of Light. The clock is held upright by a huge scaffold. There are golden threads leading from each Light Being to the centre of the clock. In the centre is a bright light that is so much brighter than the others are.

Why a clock! I ask.

That is Arch Angel Michael he is is directing all their collective positive energy flow to where it is needed in the universe. On earth you operate on time, other beings are trying to alter the course of your time. I am told.

The Light Beings work in cycles operating only at the times when the Earth is entering its darkest days and is calling for help. It is highly secretive, that is why no one can see the Clock of Light, the twins whispered conspiratorially. If you could see them there would be too many questions asked. Many people would be frightened and this would interfere with what we are trying to achieve. You are shown when you are ready to see and to understand.

So this clock is somehow instilling good back upon the earth? I ask.

Yes! We are part of a team to prevent dark forces taking over the galaxy. Things work in a different time sequence outside of earth your clocks here are slower. The best work is done when everyone is sleeping, the twins continue. That way we can reach people’s higher selves and wake them up. A positive thought can change the consciousness of many people into a good change.

Oh so we need to have the out of body experience to do good? I ask.

The ego is the part of you that can think, feel, and act. It distinguishes itself from other people and objects. When astral travelling your soul travels lightly with no bias or judgement, you think more clearly. You see things from a different perspective and it is wonderful! they say together.

I quickly realise what these beautiful beings are telling me. This ceremony can eliminate war, disease, hunger and greed. I can see before me a beautiful ideal world, one of peace. It excites me, but also frightens me. I am, after all, only a child myself. What can I possibly do to help?

Remember us! GF they tell me, twisting their bodies to adopt positions of the alphabetical letters.

So who are these light beings? I query confused by their antics.

The light beings on and around the clock are fairies and sprites. The common garden fairies found amongst nature, the water sprites who are guardians of the sea and its creatures. They are cousins and get along well together. Some human people incarnated, once being fairies they now live a human life in order to help the earth. Archangel Michael teaches us and directs the energy flow to where it is needed. Everyone on Earth who works with Light is a Light representative.

Gotcha! I wonder now if I am in a sleep state, that this is all a dream if only I had a sign. The moment this thought enters my mind, the driver of the wiggle-snake without turning around gives me a thumbs up. He is khaki-clad and has a mop of blond hair that glows like a beacon of light.

Who is that hairy be …

I stagger back as the tunnel vibrates begins to move, forgetting all thoughts I just hold on.

We have been watching over you for a long time like angels. Have a look!

The proof appears in the form of television, flickering flashes of scenes shine before me. I can see my brother leaning over a cradle, his huge head craning in for a better view. His pudgy pink hands squeeze the cheeks of a brownish-eyed baby. It is me! The baby howls in outrage.

In another scene, a foreign giant with dark hair named Rosemary leans over a gate to talk to two tiny children that barely reach her knees. I can see it is my brother and I. Rosemary was our neighbour who, in fact, was only a few years our senior. From a child’s perspective, she had seemed big and grown up.

I can now see my dad move out into the dark to stand on the front lawn, point to the stars. He explains to my brother Bart that the stars are people who have died who are now in heaven. I am only a baby in my mother’s arms but we watch, I do remember this exchange, later I learn the reason behind it.

My cousin Gordon had been tragically killed by a truck when he let go of his older brother’s hand and ran onto a busy road. My uncle Ned, Dad’s brother had also died unexpectedly in some football match years before. He was only seventeen at the time. Dad is pointing out the stars to tell Bart who they were. He is helping Bart to understand about dying by naming each star. As he does this, little faces appear inside each star, etching an image in our small minds that will become part of our understanding of life’s cycle.

As I watch the stars on our front lawn that peaceful clear night, I hear a faint familiar tune on a piano, as if from far away. Mum is playing the piano!

This triggers a memory; The footage before me flickers then fades in on a shadow seated at a piano, two children sway to her music entranced. I can see myself and Bart crawling across the floor like monkeys. Round and round the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel. The monkey stopped to pull up his socks, pop goes the weasel.

My vision ends. The twins pull me keenly toward the portal door, the scab tears open. I take a deep breath allowing my body to slide down a huge tube. It has swirling bright colours and a rhythmic pumping sensation. I wonder if this is what you experience when you die. My ears are popping; I can hear a blowing sound like a hair dryer with no wind. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel; I sense we are nearly at its end.

I land heavily from the tunnel, on to a hard stone floor. Inside a courtyard with yellow sandstone walls, is a table with people seated around it. As I approach the table, I realise that I know all of the people seated, however now they appear to be angels. There is my grandmother whom I called MumMum, my grandfather whom I called Dah. These are my mum’s parents. My great-great-grandmother Adlam, who is MumMum’s mother, sits next to Uncle Barnes, who is MumMum’s uncle. My pa, who is Dad’s father, sits alongside my great, great, great-grandmother, Sara Brownhill, who is on my pa’s side of the family. They all wear name tags and all not a day over 30!

I am feeling confused and dazed by all of these people before me, when right on cue a seat flies out to greet and seat me. It has tiny floret wings and is comfortable. A goblet miraculously fills in front of me, I am feeling rejuvenated if still a little apprehensive. Let’s face the facts here, most of these people before me I have seen only in photos, all of which have passed on and I should not be seeing. I shift my attention to a large orb that unexpectedly projects itself in front of us. It is three-dimensional and on first appearance, I think it is an elaborate centrepiece for the table. On closer inspection, I realise it is revolving, radiating heat like a hot flame. It appears to be Earth. I can see Australia clearly highlighted by a bright green colour. Rainbow gasses surround Earth. The sun, the moon and the other planets are whizzing around the room with their own moon and sun all looking bright colourful and alive. I am looking at a total mini-universe of twelve planets in my existence and yet I think on Earth we only know of nine. I am not only in the presence of those dearly departed. I am indeed in Heaven and privy to other information. Perhaps the other three planets are stars or objects we have not yet discovered.

A firm, gentle voice speaks inside my mind. It is not important how you classify these objects, it is more important to learn about their nature and history. But please do your introductions first.

I am silenced by the mind reader.

Miranda, do you remember Porteous? It continues.

Umm the name seems familiar, I just can’t put my finger… I wonder if it is God speaking, I receive no telepathic response and my mind drifts to another memory.

My grandmother, MumMum, heard God speak once. MumMum had always had a bad heart, which had plagued her all her life. She had a beautiful singing voice and was talented, but because of the strain on her heart, she gave up the singing. Alternatively, she played the organ instead. MumMum had been walking in a shopping complex one day when she heard a voice say Don’t worry! Everything around her stopped! It was just MumMum and God. MumMum recalled this incredible feeling it gave her such faith and hope. She knew her time was not up, God had spoken. Everything was going to be okay. I looked at her now thinking, had she been right? MumMum smiles at me with a knowing glance.

MumMum is wearing a pink knitted night jacket over a blue nightie with her golden halo perched on her head. Her enormous wings are tucking neatly behind her chair. MumMum earned those wings and is proud to be an angel. A peaceful grace and enticing floral perfume surround her.

Miranda my angelic name is Cee, as in the musical note. She tells me.

My grandfather, Dah, on the other hand, is enjoying grapes. Holding them high above his head he then drops them into his mouth. Dah seems joyful and happy. He is not grumpy as he was when he lived on Earth. I can smell a familiar clean, soapy, wine-tinged scent emanating from his presence. He has a large bowl of fresh vegetables in front of him. Dah always grew his own vegetables on Earth and he loved the odd glass of wine to go with them.

Uncle Barnes is brandishing a huge stock whip. He wears overalls and has a bushy head of hair with a long white beard. He is a good head and a half taller than anyone else present. Uncle Barnes long ago did the mail run in his hometown of Red Hill in South Australia. He had his own horse-drawn cart. Uncle Barnes is strong as an ox.

Grandma Adlam sits dressed bizarrely as a trapeze artist. A vision of oddity in a large purple tutu scattered with sequins. She wears pink stockings and loose feathers in her matted curly hair. Her thick bifocals balance on her prominent nose. Granny Adlam is a big solid woman. On Earth, she was ahead of her time with a bit of a reputation as a feminist. Granny Adlam had even taken the mayor’s carriage for a spin around the town square just for fun and run off with the circus at age seventeen. Granny Adlam was not a particularly good mother either. She would sometimes leave her children tied to the clothesline while she went off to play poker with her friends. Her children became wards of the state, except MumMum, who went to live on a farm with Auntie and Uncle Barnes. Although it wasn’t my grandmother’s fault, as MumMum had been the favoured one amongst her siblings. Her father had just wanted a better life for her.

Sara Brownhill is on Pa’s side of the family. Pa’s Grandmother Sara is dressed conservatively in a plain pleated brown tweed suit, buttoned to the throat, she looks older than her years. Her hair pulls severely to either side of her head with neatly plaited buns. She leans towards me, a strong forthright energy, she tells me to listen to her messages and trust them. I nod, as her presence is quite strong and I get the impression she wants me to take this seriously not kid around. While living on Earth she was quite open with her spirituality and astral experimentation as part of a theosophical society.

Pa, my dad’s father, sits next to Sara. He whistles a tune then suddenly leaps off his chair to demonstrate his dancing skill. I can hear his feet tapping furiously beside the table. He never could keep still when he had the full use of his legs. Fortunately, in heaven, earthly ailments are gone, this is evident in Pa. He shows no signs of the stroke that crippled him and eventually claimed his life. He is now a walking, tapping, singing, whole man again. He wears a red jumper, yellow pants with his green army hat perched cheekily on his head. This is surprising as Pa had always taken his army days seriously. It is not a joke! I am pleased to see them all living full rewarding lives in another dimension and all having a great sense of humour. I realise the dead people present are in fact angels and living full and happy lives with their personalities still intact.

It is all quite amazing, it appears that in heaven, you can touch, smell and hear, although everything is much more vivid. Crystal Clear! Bright colours that we do not see on Earth; rainbows of colour are everywhere you look. Beyond the courtyard, I can see green hills and above me blue skies. I can smell jasmine and lavender. I can even hear the distant sounds of birds chirping. Spirit is solid, not ghostly or transparent.

Pa approaches me and taking my hand, leads me to take a seat beside him at the table. I register the warmth of his touch and see a vapour rise. He puts a finger to his lips to indicate shhh! He tells me telepathically,

Go easy! We are your soul group and can all hear you, he jokes.

Rumbling laugh issues, everyone holds onto their chair as the foundations tremble. God reminds us of its presence around the table. With a wicked sense of humour, I realise he knows each of our thoughts and surprises me further by speaking louder inside my head.

Yes, she is a little prickly but ripe for the picking!

What! God certainly has my attention now as I am truly riled. But if the truth be known I do have a quick fuse and I have been rather critical in my appraisal of the family; however, how am I ripe for the picking?

"It is time to begin,

I am all that I am.

I am all that is.

I Am God. I am the Alpha and the Omega."

Doesn’t Meagre mean small? I scratch my head in thought.

O mega, O means Great, I am the beginning and the end, God answers with a chuckle to his voice showing no offence.

O sure, I answer respectfully.

However Miranda you may remember me as Porteous. You called out to me when you were all alone in the middle of the street. Don’t you remember?

Get out! I do, you were in my dream with the dog, why couldn’t I remember that before?

It is an art, the more you practice the better you become. Did you like my ancient Grecian story? It opened up a Pandora’s box hmm. These stories have been adapted and retold over the years but hey all good ideas originate from the source.

Wow I did enjoy it I didn’t want to wake up, so is it Porteous or God I am to call you?

I am whoever you want to label me. The big cheese, the top dog, I think Porteous is good, as you named it and I am always open and at your disposal. A port to land in …

However you, Miranda Brownhill, are a channel and chose your path long ago even before you were born. You chose your family; your circumstances and you even picked your own name. I send you these dreams now to remind you who you are.

Why me?

Miranda means Miraculous!

What! That’s so vain, I called myself miraculous?

We both did actually!

I created you and I live through you. I am with you during good, bad, and sad. I am always there to help if you only would ask. I have given you free will on Earth to make choices of your own. I will not interfere with those choices. I won’t change the outcome of Earth and it is up to every individual to change for themselves. If you are not happy with living amongst pollution and rubbish, do something about it. Too many people at the moment are self-obsessed and the Mother Earth is becoming unbalanced. Everyone makes mistakes it is human. I know your reality is hard at times but it is all part of a natural learning process. You begin life and evolve. You continue evolving until you reach enlightenment, which could take many lifetimes.

Really! How m …

There are no right or wrong choices. Sometimes it will just take longer for you to reach your goal. When you have attained knowledge and learnt your lessons, you will return to your maker, me - and to heaven. There is nothing to fear with dying because life is eternal. Some of you return to heaven and then choose to experience something different. To become a guardian angel perhaps! Or to experience living on another planet.

Do Aliens e …

Yes! The planets within your galaxy, as you have seen with the colour orb demonstration, are very much alive. Most have advanced more than the human race. They operate in a different time continuum living side by side however in a different space. That is why you cannot see life on other planets through your telescopes. In your time they are extinct, in our plane they are alive.

On other planets, there is no war, hunger, or greed because the beings or aliens as you call them, are more evolved. They see the good in sharing, living in harmony and peace. Money is not used, but a barter system is in use where they swap amongst themselves. Beings voluntarily donate a percentage of their wealth to provide for all, therefore no one goes without. Some have more than others because they choose to work harder.

Jesus who is that!?

All my relatives look at me disapprovingly as I have blasphemed.

Well I was listening but it caught my eye all the alien talk, in the adjoining courtyard I saw him walk past, long brown hair space suit and holding a helmet!

You spoke the truth! It is indeed my son, where was I? The Clock of Light, as you know, is operating to help Earth rebalance. We need you, Miranda, and others like you all over the world to help gather the flock by reaching out with love to all and sharing your knowledge.

I’m just a kid!

Yes last time I checked, you are also part of the Galactic Federation, it was founded millions of years ago, too many members to count.

Is that lambs bleating?

I jump aside as they swarm into the enclosure Porteous keeps talking oblivious and I struggle to comprehend as a horse neighs close by and I hear hooves pounding the cobbles in the distance. I desperately raise my hand to gain attention.

I’m scared of horses! I blurt.

Porteous calls out …

Zookeeper!

Crikey! Easy Pegasus. If she can’t deal with the horse how can she handle the truth!?

Who spoke? What does he mean?

For emphasis, Porteous speaks louder, stronger…

People have forgotten WHO they ARE and WHY they are here! Greed, hate, hunger and war are unnecessary. Earth is being destroyed but it is not too late to change. You will channel this information that you are learning through to others. Use the talents you have been given. Operate with truth, trust and love!

But how? I ask desperately, I haven’t got a word in!

Time to fly! I hope that answers all of your questions. Be patient my child, when you are older you will remember! finishes, God/Porteous/Top Dog, The I Am, our Creator.

A gust of wind moves through the courtyard indicating Porteous is gone when the dust settles Pa faces me.

We need to erase your memories before you go. It will only hinder and confuse you in your day-to-day life on Earth. We will give you a shell, it is a communicator. We will call you when you’re needed! Keep it with you at all times, explains Pa.

Where are the twins the portal is gone? As I search the courtyard in vain I see I am not returning the way I had arrived.

A shower cap with mechanical arms drops from the ceiling. I am not sure if it is fear or excitement I feel, however, I am reluctant to pass up my newly acquired abilities and knowledge. I can hear an eggbeater sound inside of my head, my thoughts are being scrambled. The courtyard becomes clouded; I can no longer see my relatives. I see approaching a white creature with silver wings, its rider takes my arm and I feel a feather brush against my cheek as I’m lifted. I make my descent riding a horse. A spirit guide with black plaits buoys me, stops me from plummeting as we work our way back to Earth and through the layers of clouds. I check constantly that my companion still grasps me; I hold tight, look beyond her plaits and into her amber eyes. The eyes change to a deep blue colour. I recognise my companion now, and I trust her, my body becomes limp, I relax into Whyomi. I am safe; I am home, all just a dream.

Chapter 2

Whyomi Hulk

I wake gripping my pillow and hear the loud sound of Dad beating eggs in the kitchen. I have stray feathers in my hair. Feeling tired and heavy, and as though I have been dreaming all night, I get dressed and follow my usual routine mechanically. For some reason Dad loves eggs. I am sure he would eat them three times a day if we let him. I prefer tuna myself. Dad