My spirit guide's name is Mos'eeb. He told me once he was a poet in his last lifetime. He told me he was before his time in
his last lifetime, that he had also been an artist and did artistic interpretations of many of his poems. I asked him if he was famous in that life. His reply, yes after his death he had become very well known...
but after the fact... after his death.
I asked him who he was in that lifetime, his reply to me was matters not my dear heart! And he never told me. Even after my nudging him to give up the fact, his
response... matters not!
Years later after doing readings for several years I happened to pick up a book of poems and had began reading them. I read a poem in particular and immediately recognized
my guides magnetic energy or vibration which also could be equated to a signature or DNA. I knew it was Mos'eeb's energy. I reconized him. Each of us have a unique energy-vibration as well as unique DNA.
I bought a book about the person who wrote the poem, and saw all the wonderful works of art. WAY out art even by today's standard! I could now identify
what Mos'eeb meant by his saying he was before his time. My spirit guide's name was William Blake in that lifetime.
In my mind and heart I knew the truth, I did not really need to even ask
for clarification but I did. I asked him straight up if he had indeed been William Blake and he answered me yes.
The next poem coming to me was very strange!
One day was while I was having lunch, there was a man sitting next to me having lunch as well. He seemed to be a bit off key, mentally challenged so to speak. I noticed him ask the waitress for a pen and paper, her giving him a slip of her food order booklet and a pen. He sat there for about five minutes very focused on what he was writing.
As he got up to leave he turned to me and said I am suppose to give you this, and handed me the slip of paper. He then got up, paid for his lunch and left. I had never seen him before, and have never seen
him since. The front of the paper was blank, I looked at the back side of the paper and there was this beautiful poem. I had no doubt where the poem had come from this time....I knew.... don't know if the poem was
written by someone else, William Blake or just sent again as a gift of love and support from beyond.... absolutely beautiful! I still have the piece of paper with the poem scribbled on it.
I had been drained at the time, going way too fast, doing too many things, doing too many readings.