Audio · Poem · Poetry

Dark Matter

To Source and all beyond,

As Source has Source,

Unbound by time or speed of light.

What is my place in this abyss?

Of black holes and dark matter

Wrapping the galactic plane

Like a mother’s blanket for a babe?

 

What is within me expands and contracts,

Pushing away astral travelers and dodging debris

Floating by from past voyages

And cast away by Jupiter and

Left unanchored to each cell in my being,

Where pain begets pain

From collisions in comets’ midst.

 

Is Soul dark and dank, like

Empty space, a vacuum sucking

Life from kindred spirit?

Or is Dark Matter a coat

Woven for me to wear

In all time and ages

for many life ways under the stars?

 

Copyright © 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard

Image: Hubble Space screenshot   https://www.google.com/search

screenshot

 

Audio · Ekphrastic Poetry · My Mother · Poem · Poetry

Mother, Great Pine

Mother, Great Pine,

Stretching in her years.

Needles springing from craggy trunk

In need of water.

Branches reaching for cloud mist.

Perches for birds with nests

Gathered in crevices hidden by owls.

Her hair of needles

Cracks in Sun’s heat

And breaks in Sun’s breath.

Her roots dig into springs

Dried to stain on parched sand,

Blown to rock in forgotten forests,

Where memories remain.

Mother, Great Pine,

Life marks its initials

On tattered bark

Dressing her soul.

Her shadow marks a path

For Time to travel

Dawn to dusk

Without fail.

 

Copyright © 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard

Image: https://www.google.com/search

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