December 23, 2007
Is It Safe To Feel Safe?
written by Steven Barrymore
poem by Tiffany Martin (in memoriam)

AS I WALKED THE PATH

The December 2007 article in Being of Life took a strange twist. It was planned to be a tribute to all those souls who have passed on and our celebration of their life here on earth. A Christmas of remembrance of those loved one’s who are no longer with us in a physical presence. I got in my car and drove to visit Robert Martin and borrow a poem that Tiffany Martin wrote. Robert was married to Tiffany and they were life partners for nearly 40 years until in 2004 when Tiffany passed from this good planet earth; Tiffany was diagnosed with lung cancer. Her passing was tragic and too soon. Tiffany was well known for her clairvoyant and intuitive abilities. Having been a weekly guest on a Boston radio station talk show for over 10 years giving clairvoyant counseling to the listeners who called in. Tiffany provided a grounded guiding presence for those in need. She was a creative writer, photographer, mentor, and most important to me a dear friend. I knew Tiffany for nearly 30 years. I wrote of meeting Tiffany for the first time in the October 2007 article ‘Who am I?’ in Being of Life.

The poem was based on a dream that Tiffany had about 4 months before the 2001 9/11 event. A dream of visions that Tiffany could not connect directly to an event, until the day of 9/11. Tiffany wrote a poem; a poem of violence and a vision of angels.

When I arrived at Robert’s residence. I got out of my car and walked the path to his house. As I walked this path, a young man whom I knew as a casual acquaintance approached me. As this young man and I came into eye contact, I could see the deep dilation of his pupils and glossy eyes. I immediately determined this young man was on drugs and moved away from him. To my surprise this young man physically attacked me without any provocation on my part. The physical and emotional damage from the attack became overwhelming. I became hypersensitive to the world around me, developed depression, and would occasionally ask the question, “Why?”

THE QUESTION

Not just Why Me?, but, Why? The question of violence is a complex one. Involving many views and opinions. Maybe too many views and opinions. The question of violence is still the question of, Why? From our violent society, we find the good in humanity. The love and support after a devastating event. The coming together as a whole to aid in the healing. We remember what it took to arrive at this place when we ask the question, Why? Violence demands our attention. Peace is an after thought.

CONTRAST

Many years ago I read an article in Scientific American on how our eyes ‘see.’ It is not the color around us. Nor is it the shapes of the objects. But the contrast that these shapes exist in. Of the darks and the lights that make up our visual field. We live in a world of contrast. A contrast of violence to a contrast of peace. Both create our “field” of life. Perhaps someday we can lessen the dark contrast of violence and deepen the visual lightness of peace. When we as a “whole” learn a new way to ‘see.’

GIFT GIVEN

On December 24th, 2007 I will place a gift-wrapped box under the Christmas tree. The size of the box is inconsequential. Inside this box is a letter. A letter written to Tiffany Martin. The gift tag on the box reads;

To My Dear Friend Tiffany Martin
Love, Steven

I may save this gift-wrapped box for next Christmas and the one that follows; I have not decided that yet. What it represents to me is my recognition of the remembrance of my friend in this time of peace and coming together in the celebration of our spirits. It is a physical offering of that remembrance. An expression of my love and gratitude for our time together.

THE POEM

The poem that follows is sad, it is direct, it is a depiction of the events of 9/11. If you do not wish to be reminded of the events of 9/11, please do not read this poem.

September 11, 2001

I’ve seen airplanes
Fly into New York’s towers
I’ve seen a fire burn
For one hundred days
I’ve seen New York’s tallest buildings
Crumble to the ground like toys
I’ve seen three thousand people murdered
Then buried in cement, dust and steel
I’ve seen the whole world mourn

I’ve seen one thousand angels
Fly down from the sky
To wrap hearts around the souls
I’ve seen the face of evil
I’ve felt the hand of God

I’ve seen the faces of the dead
I see them all again in their children’s faces
I’ve seen a President cry
And a Mayor find his legacy
I’ve seen heroes rush to their deaths
I’ve seen cowards fly planes
I’ve seen the hand of terror
Wipe blood across the sky

I’ve seen one thousand angels
Fly down from the sky
To wrap hearts around the souls
I’ve seen the face of evil
I’ve felt the hand of God

Poem copyright 2001 Tiffany Martin. Poem used with the permission from the estate of Tiffany Martin.

Copyright 2007 Steven Barrymore. Being of Life — the Blog. All rights reserved worldwide. This article and /or pictures may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the written permission from the author Steven Barrymore. View the magical photographic print collection from Steven Barrymore at Images Magical http://www.imagesmagical.com/