Over the course of my life, poems have been essential and they have been formative. They are interwoven with my close encounter experiences, because it is only in the ideas and feelings evoked by poems–both dark and light–that I can find sufficient complexity and resonance to enable me to think meaningfully about this greatest of all human events, the contact experience.

My hope is that, as time gradually causes mankind to awaken to who we really are and where we really are, and who our visitors are, that little deposits of meaning such as I have tried to make here will offer a useful resonance.

In the meantime, for those of us who already know what is happening, I have tried to capture here the textures of my early life experience as they formed around the poems that I loved, the poems that are to this day hidden in my heart.

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  1. thank you whitley for giving
    thank you whitley for giving us, your fellow contactees, a place to belong and share experiences. many blessings to you and anne. i look forward to enjoying your poetry.

  2. Thank you Whitley. This was
    Thank you Whitley. This was so comforting
    to me.


    Gail (Mama Shine)

  3. WOW, WHITLEY!!! This is
    WOW, WHITLEY!!! This is wonderful…..As a child, I grew up in an Irish neighborhood, so, it was a given that all of these mythological small people existed. They watched us and if the Goblins didn’t get us then it would be the Gypsies; if we were REALLY behaving badly. Brownies, however, were more of the protectors watching over us…..Those unseen ones were a part of our growing up.

    The Tarot…..I have always believed that THOTH was the creator of these cards. More like a book. If a person knows how to lay these cards out in the proper order, the story of humanity can be read…..Past, present and our future.

    Thank you for these wonderful poems and thoughts…..

  4. Two days ago some words we
    Two days ago some words we used to chant when I was a child popped into my head: “Up the lofty mountain, down the rushy glen. . . . . ” I googled “for fear of little men” and found out it was actually from a poem by Wm. Allingham. So, you could have knocked me over with an owl feather when I heard Whitley read the poem this morning!!!

  5. ‘The Fairies’ knocked me over
    ‘The Fairies’ knocked me over as well! As soon as Whitley began reading it, it was the strangest deja vu. I know that poem so well, but I can’t remember from where or when. I just ran downstairs and pulled my well-worn copy of ‘The Family Book of Best Loved Poems’ (published 1952) from my bookshelf. My mother bought this book when I was a child, and it was one of my favorites. That poem is not listed in the book. Now I am puzzled about why I know this poem so well. A puzzler, and buried somewhere in memory…

    Whitely, I enjoyed this special reading a great deal. Many thanks for sharing another important piece of the puzzle, as well as a part of yourself!

  6. Thank you, Whitley, for this
    Thank you, Whitley, for this beautiful reading.

    Decades (two? three? four?) ago, I read a book about the UFO phenomenon, I do not remember the title, which introduced me to the poem “The Faeries.” I believe this same book was my introduction to the work of Jean Vallee, the deep roots of the
    Visitor experience in human history, and its relationship with folklore. It is understandable, perhaps inevitable, that this poem would speak to you.

  7. The Conditions of a Solitary
    The Conditions of a Solitary Bird

    The conditions of a solitary bird are five:
    The first, that it flies to the highest point;
    The second, that it does not suffer for company,
    not even of its own kind;
    The third, that it aims its beak to the skies;
    The fourth, that it does not have a definite color;
    The fifth, that it sings very softly.


    These are the words of San Juan de la Cruz in his “Sayings of Light and Love”
    and quoted in “Tales of Power” by Carlos Castaneda.


    It’s rare, these days to hear others speak of the subtle agonies and ecstasies of inflection that poetry can offer. As I sat listening to Mr Strieber recount these very personal geographies, I was touched, though not surprised, that he took the time to reach inside yet again, for others, at what is a difficult time.

    I think back to 1998/9 when I was reading through Castaneda’s works and found the poem above, perched on the page, yet somehow soaring high above on gentle summer winds, calling me..

    Little did I know how important those lines would become to me through a long period of sadness, personal isolation and loneliness.

    A world turned upside down indeed. Looking back now, that was also the richest, most connected time of my life and, again, just a few lines of poetry summon tears to my tired eyes. I miss the pain.

    Loneliness can be the kindest friend, the stillest lover but it is never an enemy; rather, always an ally with impeccable power.

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