I woke in the middle of the night and felt compelled to write this poem Taonga. I’ve produced it in all formats, written, podcast and video – take your pick which appeals to you way of digesting.

It’s a warning, to us all. You may have already heard the call, but some have not.

We need to set a new trajectory through healing our OWN hearts, connecting to God, the Creator, Source. We cannot rely on this external world.

We are in some kind of ‘End Game’ in terms of some kind of Totalitarian take over. We need to take steps to do our part in this to help save the planet and our future children and generations from this insane, technological materialistic take over disaster. They are seeking to make our bodies last, avatars, immortal, through the use of technology.

They are after our sOuls. Become your Warrior.

TAONGA – in Māori culture is a treasured thing, whether tangible or intangible. An outstanding example. Angel, a star. One of a kind. Authority and soul. This connection starts at home, not out there.

Right now

The air is so thick.

The frequency tightens.

The pulse of life slows.

To a dull ache, a thud.

All whilst a circus song clangs in our ears

And plays clown in your sites, a colourful clash.

A firm grip is brought, ever tighter

Upon the spirit of wholeness,

“O”

The “O” of the sOul

The “O” of the crown.

As opposites are split

By design, by design,

Pummeling, pummeling

Pitting each other against

The divide engineered

Designed to … for what?

A dull ache, some do clutch and fall, to their knees to the ground.

The heart, keep it beating

There’s a rhythm to your sOul

Keep tender your hold, in the cup of your hand

Your hand can be gentle and comfort your sOul

O sweet lullaby, that hums oh it hums,

In amongst the thud of AI, an un-natural thud.

Keep humming, keep humming

Your sweet “O”

gentle sOul

It’s yours, oh it’s yours dear

Keep hold of your sOul.

Keep watch as time lingers

They’re are after your sOul

Keep watch and keep hold dear, of everything dear.

A switch, see the switch

To turn everything off?

But what I ask what?

Will be left – when – big hands pulling strings

Re activate strings,

Dna they have stole,

You desert

Keep hold,

O keep hold dear

A love will behold

In the palm of your hand

And the beat of your sOul

Your heart will keep beating

Keep tender and hold

Your sweet O glorified sOul

So precious and rare

It transforms and it heals

To keep wholesome the “O”

Be worth your weight in gold.

Your lifeblood, your flame.

A trailblazer be

In the thud of the night.

For your sOul

You must be

Royalty

Command as you sway

An escort be noble

Oh shining, O bright

With your radiant glow

Designed to … for what?

Your being, your nature

Your spiritual sOul

Keep the O oh so whole dear

They are after your sOul.

Poem by Elizabeth. © Elizabeth Shewan, The Artist and Clairvoyant.