Audio · Healing · Poem · Poetry

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

 

 

 

 

 

Poem · Poetry · Writing

Rain Falls Steady

Rain falls steady

As I serve the seeds

For birds and squirrels.

The grand Ash seems to lean

Into my gaze.

Her huge trunk and branches

Betray her age.

A cardinal cocks its head

As a squirrel scurries to the bowl

For the prize.

And the wind chimes sound as

The Tabby waits for the chase

On slick stone.

 

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©Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Images: pixabay.com

 

Ekphrastic Poetry · Healing · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry · Writing

The Dark Apostle

Rising from the coals

And shadows of flames,

Dressed in deep void

With eyes like portals

To the dense bramble

Of your obscure lives,

I am your companion.

There is passion in your fear that

This blood fire is your last sunset.

You smolder in my breath, and

I thrive on your muffled screams.

I hold you down as you writhe in agony,

Locked under my gaze.

My breath is odious;

My face, repugnant.

My laughter, the cackling of fire.

You recoil, gasping for prayer,

But little do you know,

I am the answer you seek,

For so long you have hidden

Inside this clay façade.

Living for self in idle pleasure,

Slumbering like the dead in this carcass

With no clear path to truth

Beyond mindless habit and desire.

Open your eyes! Can you not see!

You rebuke this Demon, but

I am the Harbinger sent to alarm and awaken.

Look at the Foe who will crack open your heart!

If you don’t do it, I must smash the walls

Around your garden!

Had you known your truth is far scarier

Than this Behemoth,

You would have conquered your Shadow Foes,

Binding you to complacency.

Confess, I fascinate you, and

Your compulsions attract me.

I will hold you down

Until you scream for God’s mercy, yet

Little do you know, I am His Instigator,

Inciter of Truth.

I am the fire plundering your earth

To crack open your seed

To hasten your growth.

I am His Leviathan, and though

Cast to the raging depths,

I still rise as an angel.

Not all wings are lucent;

This dark cloak is well worn,

Tattered by lies, deceit, trespasses, addictions.

Though I am the underbelly of the snake,

Dark Light is still Divine.

I am an instrument of His Peace, and

For this you need me, the Dark Apostle,

To jolt you from trance

Into rebirth.

.

©Barbara Harris Leonhard  @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image: “The Devil’s in the Details”, original digital art, ©Martha Harris. See Martha’s Artistic Flarings@artisticflarings.blog

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Healing · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

Heartfelt

Heartfelt

Love is sacred energy

Shared for transmutation.

Give so that you may receive;

Receive so that you may give.

Bounty has no dam.

Kindness circles back to its source, for 

Its path is not that of an aimless arrow 

Slicing the air to hit an unseen target

Into the middle of nowhere.

Love flows unheeded.

The balanced heart can heal while

A blocked heart can not.

Every in breath has an out breath, and

Blood brings life unimpeded.

Joy both enriches and receives. 

Balance is a dance of gifts –

The gifts you present with lavish attention and 

Those you welcome with humility.

You are worthy of the love you give.

Do not be shy or retreat from your heart.

You deserve to be seen, and 

You deserve the joy of the love and healing

That you shower on all.

Allow that light into your heart.

Allow the love to return to your spirit

To be hewn into gold.

This lustrous, pure, hallow metallurgy

Of transformation is ascension.

As you share this treasure

So will it gain value

Each time it is returned to you,

And all will thrive on this infinite cycle

Of love and grace.

©Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image “Heartfelt” Original Digital Art ©Martha Harris. See Martha’s Artistic Flarings

Ekphrastic Poetry · Healing · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry · Reiki · Writing

Rest in Your Being

 

Rest in your being.

Your light is ever shifting its gaze to wholeness

As moods can dim what’s inward 

To quarter light.

One cannot judge the size of the heart

From dawn to dusk.

You are your own moon rising and setting

Over the span of hours or days.

Time is relative to your path to insight as

Your moon waxes and wanes.

Heed not a dim light.

It will swell to fullness as a healed heart.

Dawn patiently greets a rising sun.

And sunsets greet a rising moon.

This is the rhythm of healing.

Shadows never linger, for insights shine.

Yet shadows create the spectrum of illumination,

Forming mandalas of awareness for you to study.

The wholeness of your light is rich in tone and chroma.

Your complexion is your moon.

This visage is vibrant and ever changing.

Fear not the face of your soul at dusk.

It is waking in that moment.

Rest in your spirit to await

The dawn of your knowing.

 

©Barbara Harris Leonhard  @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image: “Dawn of Knowing”, original digital art, ©Martha Harris. See Martha’s Artistic Flarings@artisticflarings.blog

Healing · Poem · Poetry · Reiki

Mother-Father God

Mother-Father God,
We gather here to bless
The birthing of a sacred place
As it grows from soil to sky.
We embrace Your Light
In each brick and wall,
As mortar for the soul
Of this blessed place.
May the foundation, erected on
Crystalline ground hold up
The solid frame of each floor
And cradle the heart of the home, and
May it be the cauldron of Joy
Sustaining all.
May each floor hold wonder
For life as it unfolds.
May each window open to awe
As each season passes through time
In its own glory.
May each wall protect and guard
As a mother’s arms would her babe.
May the roof shield from rain and storm,
Clothing the hearth.
May each residing soul find
Sanctuary in this temple.
May all who visit find healing
In heart of this hallowed dwelling.
May mercy and forgiveness
Grow a garden here
To nourish each spirit
And adorn the grounds.
And so it is,
And so let it be.
Amen. Amen. Amen.

©Barbara Harris Leonhard@extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Images: The construction of a new home of the Hensley-Crouch family: Dennis, Shannon, Robin, and Charly

Healing · Poem · Poetry

Grace

 

the leaves have fallen and stomped to dust

I am laid bare, exposed to wind

my limbs, brittle, still pleading

for a meal of sun

some days too short for food

nests lay bare as squirrels forage

the wind cools me to my roots

I am glass

holding on to my reflections

lest they be lost to twilight yet

Grace clothes me in a gown

meant for a bride embracing her heart

this pure finery sparkles as diamonds

on my icy bough as

I rest with the Angel of Mercy

 

©2019 Barbara Harris Leonhard

extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

Image: my yard