Audio · Poem · Poetry

Our Flower

Our Flower

In this light

Our flower is temporal.

From seed, planted in wet earth,

Potential to unfold.

To bud, infant life

Innocent to Time’s story.

To bloom, the perfect burst of

Its dance of life in Sun, our

Beauty in its own rays

Forgotten in decay, for

Time in this light is but

An arrow to ash.

From ash to new light,

The mystery, where

Our flower is always in burst,

Blazing the finest,

Indescribable spectrum,

Our essence in timeless bliss.

 

 

Copyright© 2017/12/12 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

Image: https://hdbackgroundspot.com/article/top-81-stylish-wallpapers

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Audio · Poem · Poetry

Gaia

Gaia

We are holding in the cries of fear,

Refusing to surrender to truth.

What can come of filling the streams

Of Gaia’s veins with our tears but a flood of pain?

Can the rifts in her ancient skin be healed?

Can canyon walls ever merge into a New Earth

Free of grief and loss?

 

The fingers of the Sun can only reach so far

Into the depths for galactic truth.

Has God succumbed to the Fire?

It cannot be so.

Though dense on the edges of Holy Planes,

Light is there.

Light and Shadow share one spectrum,

Always in battle for healing,

Finding the perfect balance.

 

Where Earth is upheaved grows new bounty.

The pain of ripping soil births potential,

Shimmering translucent as

Tiny perfect fingers rooting in Time,

Swaddled in constellations

Webbing Then and Now.

Time is connected on all planes.

Today’s prayers heal the past

As it has never ended.

All grief is omnipresent and infinite

If we remain in slumber.

 

Hope is wholeness.

The future is “I AM”.

Tears heal tears in the fabric of Time,

Filling in the rifts and canyons of geologic upheaval

With Love transmuted into cosmic truth.

We are One.

Our tears are Gaia’s rain.

The clogged well of each heart

Is her burden to bear.

Our actions become her prayers or her curses.

She cries in fire, wind and geologic torment when

We fail to love her power,

Which supports us in the lattice of her cosmic apron

To which we cling as babes born innocent

And slow to awaken to her grief,

Which is ours to bear.

 

Copyright© 2017/12/10 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

Image: Pixabay

 

 

 

 

 

Audio · Ekphrastic Poetry · Poem · Poetry

What Do You Do?

What Do You Do?

What do you do

For a homeless soul,

Flailing in the dissipating self,

Swallowing night air,

Gasping for breath as though

Seized by swarms as they

Emerge in their flight

To cloud-capped ridges

Of thunder slapping

The weary heart

Locked in despair?

The Eye sees;

The One knows.

 

Copyright© 2017/12/04 Barbara Harris Leonhard

Image: pixabay.com