Does heaven exist? With well over 100,000 plus recorded and described spiritual experiences collected over 15 years, to base the answer on, science can now categorically say yes. Furthermore, you can see the evidence for free on the website allaboutheaven.org.

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This book, which covers Visions and hallucinations, explains what causes them and summarises how many hallucinations have been caused by each event or activity. It also provides specific help with questions people have asked us, such as ‘Is my medication giving me hallucinations?’.

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Observations placeholder

Rimbaud, Arthur - Resting limbs worn out from Wandering



Type of Spiritual Experience


A description of the experience

Arthur Rimbaud – from Rimbaud Complete [translated by Wyatt Mason]

Resting limbs worn out from
Wandering, I reclined on the river’s green bank,
Lulled to sleep by its low murmur; I prolonged my repose,
Cradled by the concert of birdsong and of the zephyr’s breath.
And then through the airy valley came doves
In a white band, bearing garlands of fragrant flowers in their beaks
Gathered by Venus in her Cyprian gardens.
Their swarm gently reached the grass
Where I reclined, then, beating their wings
They ringed my head and bound my hands
With a chain of leaves, crowning my temples
With fragrant myrrh, they lifted me, lighter than air,
Into it.  Their flock bore me up to the high clouds
Half dozing under a bower of roses; the wind’s breath
Caressed my gently swaying bed.
Once the doves had returned home,
At the foot of a mountain whose summit was invisible
They rapidly reached their nests above
Depositing me, awake before departing.
O sweet nests!… A blinding white light
Blossomed around my shoulders,
And covered my body with its rays;
And this light was nothing like that darker light which,
Mixed with shadow, obscures our sight;
A light foreign to the earth, a celestial light
Through my chest, a celestial current
Flowed, like a divine river, undammed.
The heavens parted above me and before my
Amazed eyes, flying on a golden cloud was Phoebus
Himself, whose godly hand extended
A sweet voiced plectrum to my own.
And upon my head wrote these words with a heavenly flame;
YOU WILL BE A POET … an extraordinary heat suddenly flowed
Through my limbs, like a limpid fountain
Of brilliant flowing crystal igniting with rays of sunlight.
Even the doves changed shape;
The choir of muses appeared, singing sweet
Melodious songs, they took me in their tender arms
And held me on the air while thrice repeating the omen
And thrice crowning me with laurel

The source of the experience

Rimbaud, Arthur

Concepts, symbols and science items


Science Items

Activities and commonsteps



Arthur Rimbaud – from Rimbaud Complete