Billy Comes Out to His Family


Billy Comes Out to His Family

Shapeshifting and other gifts

Photo by Zdeněk Macháček on Unsplash

Billy lived in a small farmhouse in a remote area, with a farmhouse and a barn to store hay for the animals. On this particular day, the shadows were more apparent, and the air was dense with heaviness.

Remaining true to self, bright as the morning sun, Billy needed to blend in. Not diminishing his light but disguising himself so as not to bring too much discomfort to the others.

He has a lifetime of experience blending in, as he had to learn to fit in with his immediate family, caught in the traps and temptations of the day.

One day in particular, Billy entered the farmhouse, and Mama was sleeping on the couch with a cat atop her blanket. Billy could also communicate with animals.

“You need to blend in and not raise too much confusion. We will sit with Mama and comfort her until she has gained her strength.”

I can shift into a dog, but will you join me?

Cat was happy to play along and shifted into a dog with Billy.

Such an odd dog you chose. The first of its kind that I am aware of. Your snout is extra long, and your hair length is exquisite.

With a commotion outside, Billy returned to human form. Heading outside to investigate, firstly checking in on the barn. Everything was as the day before, but a stall was emptied of its furry ball of surprise.

Exiting the barn, Billy is greeted by two bear cubs.

“Follow us.”

Leading Billy to a scene where Papa and the local sheriff are discussing a recent poacher attacking a brown bear. Sheriff accused Papa of capturing and housing the brown bear in the barn.

“There you are. Come here, Billy. The sheriff would like to ask you some questions.”

“Have you seen any brown bears recently?”


“Is your family keeping a brown bear captive?”


Billy did not divulge that Uncle Tommy, also with the gift of shapeshifting, recently fell ill. At the time of illness, he had shifted into a bear. When he became sick, he was stuck in bear form.

“Thank you, Billy, for your time. And thank you, Bill, for keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.”

Sheriff left. Billy and Papa went into the pen area, where Uncle Tommy was laying, half-human, half-bear.

The family did not know what was happening to Uncle Tommy, so they kept him in the barn. Seeing a half-human-half-animal was daunting to them, and they wanted to keep him safe until they could get the answers they needed.

Billy knew what was wrong with him. One, because he had the gift. Also, he was able to communicate with Tommy telepathically.

“I’m sick, Billy. I am stuck in this form. I need to get Osho root to heal the bear and return to my normal ability.”

He needs Osho root Papa.

“How do you know this, Billy?”

I can communicate with him, and we both have the same gift.

“What gift?”

Shapeshifting. We can turn into any animal or anything for that matter.

That day, Billy came out to Papa.

“Well, go on then. Find this Osho root so we can sort this out. We will talk about these gifts later.”

My mother is currently transitioning from the physical world. During a recent visit with my son, we sat with her. We chatted with Mom and Dad about what the future will bring.

When it was time to go, my son sat before her, giving her permission to go. “I release you from any ties to this place.”

His conversation was enough to stir my heart into song.

Dad, you better sit down. I want to sing for you and Nana.

“What? What do you mean?”

Today’s events have sparked memories and future holdings, collectively bringing them to son. My heart needs to sing at this time.

Dad sat down; my son knew what was needed.

We held hands, and I began to sing.

My heart spoke its true nature while visions of my childhood through the present day flashed before my inner sight.

With tears in everyone’s eyes, Mom asked what the song meant.

It was a song of gratitude for a lifetime of memories shared. Gratitude for the developed gifts I received and for all those times I had to keep quiet. The song then transitioned into All will be ok, you are safe.

That day, I came out to my father. Not knowing how he would react to ancient dialect, but I was pleasantly surprised (not really…as the vibration goes where it needs to go) at my father’s reception to heart song.

We held one another, and he thanked me for being right where I needed to be and always listening to those voices I could not hear.

This dream was a reply to this recent event. As dreams often do, characters are exchanged, and scenes overlap for further interpretation.

Thank you

Marilyn Glover

, and the whole Third-Eye-Gypsy family, for holding this sacred space.

Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash

Breaking Bread in Vegas

Prompt| Prose Poetry

Breaking Bread in Vegas

Of all things remembered

Photo by David Vives on Unsplash

Sent to Las Vegas — city that never sleeps — mastering the art of coding and billing. Uncertainty at the forefront — to gamble my life’s earnings away. Maybe I tie one on — cliché to the core — drinking to a stupor and forgetting why I was there.

Flicking of cards — invitations to sin cities favorite past time — shacking up — hooking up with a thousand others before myself.

Time to kill — hours before diving into the deep end of frivolous to great absorbing — knowledge of practical application. Let us walk — starting at one end to the other — passing human statues — mimes and juggling fireballs — to the reason I was called to Vegas.

Hidden in the guise chargemaster’s scrupulous outlines by the state and governing bodies — simpler for of life’s understanding — connection with stranger — adopting as familial tune.

Two outings — timeless or hour and half for those keeping track — stopped by a homeless man.

Can you spare some change?

You hungry? First thing falling from my lips.


When was the last time he ate — thoughts floating about — let’s go in and grab a bite.

I can’t go in — they threw me out.

Entering with cash in hand — offering a weeks worth of food — content is what we both were seeking. Matthew begins shoveling without considering chewing his food.

No judgment — confirmed hunger sitting before me — life discussions commence. Sitting before a known felon — strong-armed robber coaxed to rising ranks of a local youth group — looking out for themselves.

Fuck! Why would you do that? Sorry — didn’t mean to slap you with the obvious. What is your plan?

I want to get into construction. I want to own my own company.

Nobody will hire you — you are a felon. Brainstorming with Matthew — go to a private construction firm — tell them of your conviction — truthful and upfront — grovel if necessary. Ask forgiveness once more — hoping to safely land on solid ground.

Chances are — under the wings taken chances — young man asking for a new start — welcomed into a hardworking family of similar folk looking to build an empire of their own. Seasons will pass — with dreams of owning your own — learning the trade — hiring a crew of others looking to make a wage.

Eyes welling — glisten of hope filling the room — Matthew collapses into the story before him. Digesting these words — with Nate showing up to share in these words — giving him the remainder of my happy meal.

Two strangers — coming together as one — sharing a vision of new beginnings — embracing like brothers never met. Parting — never knowing what became of Matthew — a warm memory fills my spirit — the city that never sleeps.

~Ani Po

Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash