Category: Poem

Estate Sale
Healing · Memoir · My Father · October Hill Magazine · Poem · Publication · Writing

Estate Sale

extraordinarysunshineweaver4 Comments

I have a new publication in October Hill Magazine, Spring Issue, page 92. The title of the poem is “Estate Sale”. You can also read the poem here, (but the format is not correct. I don’t know how to fix it.)

https://www.octoberhillmagazine.com/archives

Estate Sale 

“When someone is missing, their possessions take on meanings.” 

– Claudia Emerson (1957-2014)

How the day lays the gray fog into rain
That presses on fallen leaves with bent stems.

Am I ready to sweep them into bags –
Gently used jackets, old woven mittens?

Tell me who needs this apparel of trees

One leaf still clings, my father, not yet braced

To give up his old toys, schoolbooks, first gun.

He wrote a memoir that ended with me.

Perhaps he thought I would know my story,

Or he didn’t want to get it all wrong.

A sole leaf still being written on bark,

He cleaves to the long branch of his mother.

An ancient oak, pruned to keep her health up,

She cannot stretch her limbs out to the clouds.

Instead, her girth grows thick, her stature short,

A broad support for plumage & branches,

To which father maintains a firm handhold.

I gather their china, albums, & garlands.

I wash her face & dress her in twinkling lights. 

Father lets go as I head to the sale.   

 

A Blessing
Healing · Micropoetry · Poem · Writing

A Blessing

extraordinarysunshineweaver11 Comments

Dear Friends, most of us would agree that this past year has been extremely challenging if not tragic. Many of you have documented your pain and grief in poetry, fiction, and essays. St. Patrick’s Day is on Wednesday and Easter is coming up, so it’s a good time for us to transmute our sorrow and fear into blessings. It’s spring, a time of rebirth as we see the daffodils blooming. Although daffodils are sometimes pelted by one last snowfall, they are resilient. Indeed, spring is full of promise as four-leaf clovers await our search for good health and fortune. The fourth leaf, luck, adds to the trinity, so even if we fail to find the four-leaf clover, we are truly never alone. With love, I offer this blessing.

May you be blessed.

May good luck follow you always.

May you be healthy and thus wealthy.

May your heart be filled with grace

not grief.

May your home be filled with love,

not languor.

May your days be filled with mystery,

not misery.

May your back never bend in storm.

May friends and family gather at last     

in your welcoming arms.

Feature Image: by artistlike on pixabay.com

Image of the daffodil: by MrGajowy3 on pixabay

Soar
Ekphrastic Poetry · Healing · Original Collage Art · Poem · Poetry · Writing

Soar

extraordinarysunshineweaver12 Comments

To all my peeps… some of my poetry and art for the new year! Happy New Year! May 2021 lift us to new heights! To soar!

May 2021 lift you out of depleted soil.
To soar. To soar in sun.
Free. Free in sheer air,
Where you dream. Dream.
Not despair,
Not dread.
Not drown in storm.
May you rise. Rise.
Rise!

Collage art and poem by Barbara Leonhard extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Holiday Blessings
Healing · Original Collage Art · Poem

Holiday Blessings

extraordinarysunshineweaver2 Comments

May your holiday season

be filled with sweets

May you be blessed with good health & wealth

May the new year be magical

as your mystery unfolds

May the new year be loving

as kindness kindles transformation

but most of all

May all dreams be fulfilled, my friend,

but allow for surprise around each bend

May you find peace in your heart

though the world be apart

May you find solace in loss

& a healer in grief

May you be courageous & fierce

in the face of fear

May your heart open

to the dizzy impossible

May your way take you

to the quiet now

as birth awaits you there.

♥️♥️♥️

poetry & collage art by Barbara Leonhard



Cymbidium – a poem by Barbara Harris Leonhard — Amethyst Review
Amethyst Review · Healing · Poem · Poetry · Publication

Cymbidium – a poem by Barbara Harris Leonhard — Amethyst Review

extraordinarysunshineweaver2 Comments

Cymbidium I. He gifts her an orchid. Says, Three ice cubes a week So as not to drown it. Her joints sound of cracked ice As she gingerly accepts My lush pink blooms Of wet lips open For drink & good light. II. The house has no sun. Unpruned branches of wild flora Cluster close […]

Cymbidium – a poem by Barbara Harris Leonhard — Amethyst Review

Image by JacLou-DL from Pixabay

Free Verse Revolution · Mother Earth · My Screaming Twenties · Poem · Poetry · Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul · Publication · Writing

Awash into a Broken Mirror – Barbara Leonhard — FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

extraordinarysunshineweaver4 Comments

I kneel on the rocky shore of the river searching for myself. My image reflects off the shiny water. The glimmer of a familiar face in a tough time. But then, the wind picks up, ripples the waves, Splays my long hair into gray tendrils. In the riffle, one eye opens, one eye closes. My […]

(UPDATE: This poem is archived – the link no longer works – because FREE VERSE REVOLUTION has a new literary magazine. If you wish to access this link, let me know.)

Awash into a Broken Mirror – Barbara Leonhard — FREE VERSE REVOLUTION
Reclamation – a poem by Barbara Leonhard
Amethyst Review · Healing · Poem · Publication · Writing

Reclamation – a poem by Barbara Leonhard

extraordinarysunshineweaver6 Comments

Thank you, Amethyst Review! 🤗

Amethyst Review

Reclamation

A stretch of river he paddles
smothers from impenetrable vines
spiky buds of the invasive hops stare
from the brisling mats of leaves
hungry alien intruders
ravage, over run
steal sun, suffocate, shroud
saplings and wildflowers
with dense tangles. Turbulent

flood waters thrust
into the dense plumage
with violent twists, wrench
the miscreant from the banks
there lays bare a pristine meadow
disrobed of a weighted corset
she gasps
catches her breath
from shock of sun
sparkles in her wet dirt, saplings emerge
with curious caution
dance with daisy fleabane,
ragwort, lush grass
depleted deer tread lightly
on her floral spring frock.

.

Barbara Leonhard is a writer, poet, and blogger at Extraordinary Sunshine Weaver.  Her podcast Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul explores universal themes such as Grief, Kindness, and Presence. She taught writing for many years at the University of Missouri and is the author of 

View original post 35 more words

Blue Baby
Ekphrastic Poetry · Poem · Poetry · Publication · Vita Brevis Press

Blue Baby

extraordinarysunshineweaver2 Comments

My Ekphrastic poem, “Blue Baby”, written in response to the painting “A Woman Holding a Balance” by Johannes Vermeer, has been published by Vita Brevis. Thank you, Brian Geiger!

Blue Baby – Poetry by Barbara Leonhard

It’s interesting that this poem was published on Father’s Day considering the theme I propose. What is she weighing? Is it really the pearls?

Check out some other poetry put up by this press.

https://vitabrevisliterature.com/

Image: Johannes Vermeer, “A Woman Holding a Balance” (1664)

Straw House
Poem · Poetry · Publication · Spillwords

Straw House

extraordinarysunshineweaver4 Comments

Spillwords published my poem “Straw House”, which reflects our times with COVID-19. Dare we venture out of our nests unprotected too quickly like fledglings stumbling out of their straw houses into the grasp of the predator?

My appreciation to Spillwords!

Straw House

 

Image: https://journeynorth.org/tm/robin/jr/Book_Babies1.html

New Look for Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul
artisticflarings.blog · Audio · Healing · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Memoir · Podcasts · Poem · Poetry · Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul · Prose · Writing

New Look for Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul

extraordinarysunshineweaver6 Comments

I notice that I haven’t completed a poetry podcast since April 2. However, as you can see on my WordPress blog, I have done some publishing. It seemed easier to publish in on line sites than on my own poetry podcast in my own voice. I have to admit, everything of late has stunned me. I have lost focus to some degree when it comes to the intimacy in my podcasts.

Meanwhile, Podbean informed me my site design would not be supported, so I have  chosen a new theme.  Simple and clean.  Kind of like life could be at this time…at least in an ideal world.     https://meelosmom.podbean.com/

What the heck happened? What have we become? I was once a young girl riding my bike and playing with dolls. Now I’m hiding from a pandemic and bullets.

Does this pandemic represent our diseased minds and hearts? COVID-19 has forced us to retreat to the silence of our souls, our heart minds. Can we stand to be with ourselves? Can we cultivate our beautiful garden? Or can we only find comfort in noise (distractions, addictions, possessions). Can we truly see ourselves, love ourselves? Can we truly see and love others? And what about the Other, those who are from different tribes (families, societies, races, cultures).

What is hidden eventually rises for healing as is shown in the response to the murder of George Floyd at the knee of a cop. Racism, social inequities, corporate greed, and other forms of social, economic, and ethical/ moral malaise are symptomatic of another pandemic hidden in our Deep. George Floyd was strangled to death for passing a fake bill, but what about white-collar crime and all the money doled out to corporations while the average American can’t put food in the table with one job? With this pandemic, we suffer from huge losses in income. Our economy is flailing.

Everything that happens daily becomes the memoir of our society and our world. It’s all recorded not just on film (owing to technology) but also in our DNA. The ugly can make us ill. As Caroline Myss writes, “Our biography becomes our biology.”

I want to avert my eyes and deny all that is aberrant. However, I’m simply storing it away, like I do old journals, letters, and photos. Some things trigger joy, while others uproot pain. I think that if I don’t see it, it isn’t there, but it is creating illness.

It’s no coincidence I have taken to memoir writing, exploring my Deep. What have I buried from view? What do I need to heal? Looking at the truth is visceral and, I am told, bold maybe even courageous and healing. However, it is also dangerous. Being truthful to our word can create loss. These kinds of shifts occur because ‘all that is not aligned will fall away’. 

I have feared excavating my soul because of judgment and fear of alienation and abandonment, but I see my life from my lens while others, especially members of my tribe, have their perspectives, which they can explore in their own memoirs.

I hope to continue to explore these themes in my poetry podcast and other wetting, and see my morning awaken, as the featured image of this post shows.
https://meelosmom.podbean.com/

©Barbara Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image “Morning Awakening” ©Martha Harris, Martha’s Artistic Flarings, artisticflarings.blog