♥Heaven Can Wait♥

God does not deal directly with man;
it is by means of spirits that all intercourse and communications of gods with men,
both in waking life and in sleep, is carried on
~ Socrates

♥ ♥ Dedicated to my good friends Vicky & Kathy, for keeping me sane ♥ ♥ 

Tell the angels no, I don’t wanna leave my baby alone
I don’t want nobody else to hold you
That’s a chance I’ll take
Baby I’ll stay, Heaven can wait

I used to think that life was a one man show.

I never thought that I would need, or even want a person so badly in my life until I was on the verge of losing them… of losing myself.

I’m not proud to admit that sometimes I scare myself with the thoughts that overwhelm me, consuming me within their clutches.

But for once in my life I’m being honest to myself, to you, because you deserve to know the real me.

I can’t remember how long I’ve had this dark, twisted side to me. I don’t know where it comes from or how to stop it. Well, I didn’t.

That was, until the day I met you.

Nothing in the world could prepare me for the ride we were about to embark on. For too long I have wallowed in my gloom, walked aimlessly underneath the nights sky searching for something, anything that would make this pain go away.

Even inside a crowded room, I felt like the loneliest man on earth, I felt numb. I gave and I gave – time, money, attention, yet still I felt…nothing.

The only time I truly came alive, or came close to feeling the earth move beneath my very feet was:

i. When I was in the presence of a child or,
ii. When I was one with the music.

The innocence that I see in each and every child’s face is that of pure love. I see the face of God when I look into theirs. I feel closer to God every time one is near. They invigorate me, inspire me, show passion and understanding just by being themselves and I crave that. But more than anything I crave their acceptance of me. They do not judge, even when I’m at my lowest point, wallowing in my depths of despair, they never judge.

And then there’s the music… the dance.

Nothing could compare to the exhilarating feeling that coursed through my very being, whenever my body moved and synced itself with the bass. Whenever I swirled and twirled to the beat of the drums. Each time I pointed my fingers it felt like a bolt of electricity was shooting itself through the tips, as though a huge current had entered my soul and the music was omitting it from my physical being, back into the cosmos.

People ask me how I make music. I tell them I just step into it. It's like stepping into a river and joining the flow. Every moment in the river has its song. And I continued to create. The darkness may have imprisoned my emotions, but where my music was concerned, the light would always prevail.

Night after night I would write, compose and dance to the music God had been so kind to bestow upon me, and I treasured His belief in me. I was the vessel; it was my responsibility to pass on His message to make some sense of an insensible world. To bring joy in times of sorrow, to unite people of all races, colours and creeds and show them that we are all equal. And to show them that love is all we need.

But as the chaos of the world continued to engulf my very soul, as my hunger for our salvation threatened to consume my mind, body and soul; and as the suffering and pain continued to ooze from every corner of the world I had had enough. It was time, time to make a change and for the better.

It was time to show the world that Angel’s really do exist, but more importantly so do demons. And so far, it appeared that the demons were winning. But as long as I had breath in my body I would continue to spread His word, His message, His love.

It was time to heal the world and I was ready to do just that through my art and through my philanthropy. That was until I had to face my ultimate test.

If you’re reading this Prince, then it means you have reached your twenty-first birthday and I am not there to celebrate it with you.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been gone, or how old you were when I left, but know this my son; you will forever more be my most proudest achievement to date, along with your brother and sister, you were the light of my life and I will always love you more.

I hope as you turn the pages of the journal that accompanies this letter, you will come to understand me a little better. Understand why I made some of the decisions I made, try to see things from my eyes and my greatest wish is for you to continue forth with the legacy I left behind.

Love is the answer Prince.

Never forget that. I never did. Even in the end when I knew my time was running out, I never forgot the true meaning of life; to love and to feel loved.

Happy birthday my sweet Prince, I love you child.

Daddy.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The young man sat hunched over his chaotic desk, blinking back the tears that were now wildly cascading down his pink hued cheeks, his mouth agape with shock.

He couldn’t believe what he was reading… a farewell parting, apparently from his deceased father.

Re folding the letter that accompanied the package his gaze rested upon the black leather book that had been wrapped neatly in red silk.

Never one to do things in order, Prince had gone straight to un-wrapping his intriguing gift before reading the letter that had been sealed inside a manila envelope that rested neatly on top of the silk shroud that covered the book.

It was only when he opened the book and saw his father’s messy scrawl did he drop it back inside the white box, as though it was a piece of hot coal that had burnt his flesh, shocked was an understatement to say the least.

How could this be?

He had been gone for nine years.

He thought he was already in possession of his Father’s personal letters, correspondence, stories, poems and lyrics… yet this “special delivery” truly was a shocker.

Prince pursed his lips, exhaling loudly the breath he had been holding for the past thirty seconds as he runs his fingers through his messy brown hair. Clasping his large hands behind his head he leans back into his chair trying to make sense of his father’s words.

Today had been bittersweet. Today he had finally come of age.

Twenty-one was a big deal for him. He finally felt like a man, a real man and even though his friends and family had given him a birthday to remember, he still felt the familiar pang of loss tighten its grip around his heart.

Before he had blown out the twenty-one candles on his cake, Paris had reminded him to “make a wish Prince.”

He felt the melancholy stab at his heart when he heard those words, words that his father would always say to him, and it reminded him of all the birthdays he had shared with his dad.

Choking back the tears he was able to push those thoughts out of his mind just long enough to enjoy the rest of the night. But now sitting here, well those feelings were threatening to tear him in two. He had to get out of here. The room felt like it was closing in on him and the air felt stuffy and suffocating.

Throwing on a pair of sneakers and a hoody he bolted out of his bedroom door and descended the long, spiral staircase two steps at a time.

Time for my first legal beer, he thought to himself as he made his way to the large, expansive kitchen in Hayvenhurst.

He had declined all offers of alcohol earlier on that day as a sign of respect for his elderly Grandma, she still saw him as a little boy and sometimes failed to remember that he was now a grown man. But seeing as though this was her house, he chose to refrain from alcohol whenever he was under her roof but now, well he needed something to calm his nerves. And he knew there was a six pack hiding at the back of the refrigerator somewhere, courtesy of one of his cousin’s no doubt.

Twisting the bottle cap open inside his fist, Prince took a swig of beer and let the alcohol do its work. Gulp after gulp he took until the first bottle was drained, his nerves now starting to settle as the alcohol made its way into his system.

Taking a second bottle from the refrigerator Prince decided he needed some fresh air, so he made his way outside and pulled up a chair besides the enormous swimming pool. The moonlight was casting an eerie, otherworldly glow against the surface of the water and every now and then a ripple or two would break the waters stillness when a light breeze passed by.

The Californian air could be quite ruthless at night and right now Prince knew what that felt like as he tightened his hoody around his lean body. Maybe it’s from the cold night’s air he thinks, or maybe it’s from the shock of receiving his father’s “gift” which is causing him to shiver. Either way, the hoody was definitely a good call.

“Prince…” a voice sounding eerily like his Father’s calls out to him.

Okay now I’m really losing it, he thinks to himself as he fails to spot whoever it is that’s calling out his name.

Something stirs in the distance, just out of his line of sight, but something definitely moved in the corner of his eye.

His heart beats frantically against his chest, the thud-thud sound of it pumping his blood rings inside his ears which sends a rush of adrenaline to course through his veins. His breathing starts to pick up as that feeling of not being alone washes over him, he’s felt like this before; only a handful of times, but each time he’s reacted this very same way nonetheless.

“Prince…” that voice, there it is again. Soft, yet sing-song like. Just like…

No it can’t be!

Leaping up from his chair, Prince stumbles forward but luckily manages to steady himself from plunging headfirst into the cold water of the swimming pool.

And this is exactly why I don’t drink, he thinks aloud as he pours the remaining contents of the beer bottle onto the grass verge that frames the path that leads back to the house.

Time for bed I think.

Scanning his surroundings, Prince takes one final look around and content that he’s alone and it’s merely his mind playing tricks on him, he makes his way back inside the house completely unaware that his ears weren’t deceiving him nor was his mind playing tricks on him for one second.

Because the truth was, he wasn’t alone.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

“You want some company Mike?”

I try my best to kick the stone that’s right in front of my feet but no matter how hard I try it simply will not budge. It just sits there, taunting me, reminding me that my soul left my physical being a long time ago, but even so I still can’t get used to that fact.

“Hey Lily,” I sigh in defeat.

Whether I wanted company or not was irrelevant, because where Lilith was concerned I knew I was going to get it.

See she was my keeper, my soul guardian and more importantly she was my guide. I always knew there were Angels watching over me, but when I passed she was there waiting for me, welcoming me forth, towards my final destination.

Only problem was I wasn’t ready to go just yet. I still had a lot to learn before I came face to face with my maker and luckily Lily was my teacher and I was her obedient student.

“He’s beautiful, just like his Daddy,” her delicate voice says.

“Thank you Lily, he’s one of my greatest achievements you know.”

In my peripheral vision I see her nod her head but my eyes are firmly glued to the lonesome figure sat alone underneath the star filled sky, nursing a bottle of beer like a seasoned drinker would.

Has it really been twenty-one years?

Memories of the day he was born flash in front of me so vividly as though I’m watching an 8mm cine film, similar to those home movies my parents held dear of me and my siblings when we were children.

I see Debbie lying on the bed. I’m stood beside her, bathing her head with a cold wash cloth whilst my other hand grips hers, trying my best to coach her through the pain. I feel nervous yet extremely excited at the prospect of meeting my little one.

Debbie was so strong throughout the delivery. And after twenty-three hours there were shouts of joy when the baby was born. I couldn’t believe the miracle I had witnessed. It was unbelievable!

I feel the phantom tears stream down my face at the memories of that day. He was so beautiful, is so beautiful, a perfect creation if ever I had saw one and he was mine.

“Prince…” I hear my voice call out and for a second I feel a sense of joy coursing through me as my first born cranes his head first to the left, then to the right, trying to locate the voice… my voice that had called out his name.

“He can hear me Lily, he can hear me.” It was more of a statement than a question, but I saw it with my own eyes; Prince had heard me call his name.

“Yes Michael, he heard you. Feels good doesn't it?” 

Good? Good? It feels incredible!

For seven years I’ve tried my hardest to talk to the children, to let them know that I love them and that I’m proud of them and that I’m sorry I left them. But no matter how hard I tried, they never seemed to hear my words.

I knew it could be done. I knew certain people were in tune with spirits and could hear us when we spoke. I’ve lost track at the amount of conversations I’ve had with these gifted people. But none of them mattered. The only people who I truly wanted to hear my words were my children.

And now, after seven long years of trying, I had finally made contact.

Was it my letter? Was it the journal? Had he read much of it?

“Michael…” I feel Lily’s hand brushing against my shoulder, shaking me out of my excited pondering.

“We need to go now Michael,” Lily sighs.

I feel myself begin to well up inside. I know she’s right. We have work to do and if I’m ever to become ready, I know I must leave… for now.

“Prince…” I hear myself say once more and before I can witness him leaping up from his chair…

We’re gone.