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Michael Jackson Justice: That night in August - The Kiss

God: Reconnect to Him

The Conspiracy against God is about "The Word", and the profaning of His Holy Name within us. Adam fell in the garden, breaking the direct connection to God. Jesus, the "last Adam" was a quickening Spirit, the Word made Flesh, and the only one with whom we can re-establish our relationship with God. Michael's story is still unfolding. He is the one who is, is not. But Jesus is the only name given under heaven by which we must be saved. Many are trying to rewrite HIStory. We were given a help to instruct us. Learn more "here".

Sunday, January 24, 2010

That night in August - The Kiss


That night in August

The night all that happened watching the 60 minutes interview didn’t get any better.

Preparing dinner while my husband was downstairs on his computer, I was crying.
Doing dishes while my husband went through the mail at the kitchen table after dinner, I had to turn away because I was crying.

In bed that night, I turned from my husband and with my back to him, I cried. I cried so hard I couldn’t breathe through my nose. I carefully wiped my eyes over and over again. I couldn’t stop.

“God” I said mentally, “Why didn’t you protect him? He loved you! Why did you let this happen? What did he do that was so wrong?”

I lay there and cried. I did not understand, it was like hope had died with him. Is this what we have to look forward to?

Just then, I felt this concentrated yet very soft puff of air on my right cheek, right below my eye. It was the size and shape of lips kissing softly, but it felt like air.

My eyes opened wide. I was afraid to touch my face, not because it scared me, but because I didn’t want to disrupt the feeling. It was very comforting and loving. I thought to myself, “He’s okay now.” And I was able to calm down and go to sleep.
I had a dream that night:

I was in a lady’s house. A lady from church. My sister and my brother were also in there but we were kids . . . smaller. About grade school age. It was Christmas time and the house was beautiful. The Christmas tree was beautiful and big. It was next to a large window dressed with lace and some gauzy material. We were all taking pictures of each other and this lady gave my sister and brother a present. Both were some type of mechanical animal that did things. One was a cat that arches it’s back and meowed on a platform. The other gift was a dog that flipped and did tricks and barked.

Then the lady pointed to a present and looked at me. I shook my head no, with a smile on my face, because I didn’t think I deserved a present. I wasn’t expecting one and I didn’t want her to THINK I was expecting one. She took one out of this clear, see-through plastic bag and handed it to me.

The present was a round box much like one of those old fashioned hat boxes . . . only smaller. It was also deeper. It was beautiful red with gold, glittery piping on it and silver. A ribbon joined the stripes at the top of the same color. The lid of the box came off easily and I reached in. I pulled out a small, stuffed dog with a red collar and a gold chain that was attached to . . . . I pulled out a slightly larger dog, this one a different color, with a silver collar and gold chain attached to yet a third, larger dog still. He was a black and silver German Sheppard with his tongue hanging out, almost smiling.

I held the dogs up stretched out on their chains, so they were all level, and I inspected them. They were beautiful. Three dogs, for the Son, Father and Holy Spirit. I hugged them tightly to me.

Then I heard a voice tell me “Now that your gifts are out of the box, you need to take the chains off of them so I can put them to work.


When I awoke, the words in my head were “Child in the Wings”. I wrote them down. Maverick in the spotlight, child in the wings, doors of souls are opened, everytime he sings, tears are for the lonely . . .

I ran downstairs to type it into my computer. My first of now currently five poems about Michael was born. The words just came to me so smoothly. I didn’t think about where it was coming from, I just let them out on my keyboard:

Child in the Wings

As your book of life was opened
Destined was your name
Songs laid bare before you
Childhood yields to fame
Early start at reaching back
For time lost to the lights
Sacrificing playtime smiles
To dancing in the night

Maverick in the Spotlight
A child in the wings
Doors of souls are opened
Every time he sings
Tears are for the lonely
Staging every dream
Maverick in the spotlight
A child in the wings

The message God had given
Spoken through your songs
From the heart of innocence
Tell me what went wrong
A second childhood splintered
Press denial of truth
Our maverick forced in exile
Another wounded youth

Maverick in the spotlight
A child’s folded wings
No longer his soul mourning
No longer hear him sing
Those who judged the lonely
Silencing the dream
Maverick in the lovelight
A child earned his wings

Poem © Bonnie L. Cox, 2009


I also began working on the web site that day, MichaelJacksonJustice.com.
I didn’t know what I was going to be using it for, but I just went with what something was telling my heart.

4 comments:

  1. Hi Bonnie ~
    That is an absolutely beautiful poem for and about Michael...flowing from beyond through a compassionate heart, mind, spirit. It's pretty amazing what we are capable of. Michael obviously was aware of the power we each have...lost inside amongst the chaos. He knew how to tap into his. It's wonderful what you are doing. I'm now catching up...from the beginning of your fascinating blog to more fully understand your more complicated recent entries. What a great detective you are! Thank you so much for sharing your amazing talent in this most important quest for truth.
    Gina

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  2. Dear Bonnie, I came across your blog a few days back. I have been avidly following it. I came to know MJ through youtube videos. I am from India, where news from the west, earlier, was very sparse. Had to rely solely on Tabloid stuff.I knew about MJ's music but had not seen his dance moves. I was totally mesmerised by him, after his death.Also learnt about his sad treatment by the press.Now from more than a year I have been following numerous sites about MJ.I hope the Americans realise the wrong done to this one man.I am glad to see the good work you are doing to clear his name.I loved your poem above very much. Especially the last line. It's very touching.

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  3. I think it is amazing that after all this time, I can come back to the first few posts I made on this blog and see new comments.

    I originally started this blog to help me through the mourning process . . . Oh what I have learned while doing that!

    That's a lot of reading! You TRUTHBTOLD and Malcy, are brave!

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  4. Hello Bonnie,

    I found the link to your blog on the Jackson Family Foundation website and I love your poem and hope that you write many more. I had a dream about Michael A little over a year ago, where I got a gift too! Interesting how so many people can have such similar experiences.

    You can read about my dream here: http://www.michaeljacksontributeportrait.com/blog.php?user=ejcarter79&blogentry_id=28615

    Feel free to leave me a comment.

    God Bless.

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