Sunset
Sun slumbering into snow dogs,
Pin oaks guarding their leaves,
Fading attachments to their caregiver,
Eyes of moon,
Skin of ash,
Cramping fingers,
Clinging to comfort with
Their refuge in bitter wind.
Leaves take to faith
Though ripped from the branches
And swept away for flight
To earthen mulch.
And beds for worms.
©2018 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog
Images of Sun Dogs and Autumn Leaves: ©Dierik Leonhard
Join Me
Come, friends,
Join me at the table.
It’s time to retreat,
To seek sanctuary,
To cloister and rest
In soul voice,
Heart.
Tis’ the season
To mature spirit,
To melt the ice of fear
As we make a fire of gratitude
With flames searing skyward
In highest prayer,
Grace-filled litany,
Cleansing, preparing, refining,
Galvanizing diamond mind,
As flames sear up from root to crown,
Our crucibles
Cleansed in
God’s alchemy.
Winter’s slumber, a quickening.
Come, friends,
Join me,
Retreat,
Listen,
Allow.
©2018 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog
Image, My Patio: ©Barbara Harris Leonhard
Shadow
Shadow clings to me;
I, to the Light.
No angle to the sun
Will rid me of Shadow.
Shadow is tallest
At highest Light,
And dimmest
At highest Night.
Freedom from Shadow
Is an illusion.
She is always over my shoulder and
Hard to slap
When she constantly rebukes me
Into my tormented ears.
Evasive yet underfoot,
Like old gum
Stuck to my shoes
being dragged
Through mud and straw.
Even at night,
Shadow grips onto me.
My specter in lamp light,
How she looms across a wall
Watching me read,
And how she enfolds me as I sleep
With her cold arms.
Sleek, silky Sorceress,
No face,
Only form;
She is the outline of
The dark side of my soul,
The color of abyss,
The size of void.
Her breath reeks of
Cosmic dust.
She is my pesky hag,
My tyrant,
My saboteur,
My martyr,
My critic,
My blackmailer.
My constant companion
And biographer,
She has written the novels of all my lives,
The Akashic Scholar assigned to me at birth.
My secrets rest with Shadow;
She knows all my doubts, fears, trespasses, sins.
Shadow holds the causes
Of my discords and dis-ease.
My contender, she greedily obscures
That which I must discover,
My authentic selves
In all my lives.
If I uncover my truth,
She will lose me forever,
And she cannot bear to be alone.
Shadow has no shadow
To bear.
Still, she must give up my secrets
If I persist.
Though she is a wounded healer,
Shadow will never heal
Unless I do,
Unless I listen and turn to the Light
In such a way
That Shadow is standing
Next to me,
Not behind me,
My Sacred Sister,
Holding my hand.
My dear Shadow,
You can never abandon me,
Nor I you.
©2018 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog
Image: pixabay.com
Violet Flame
Transmute
Transmute
With violet fire
All causes and chords
Not of God’s desire.
I am a being of cause alone.
The cause is love,
The sacred tone.
*Saint Germain
summitlighthouse.org
Digital Image “Heart Journeys” ©Martha Harris@artisticflarings.com
Transmutation
Creation is an upheaval
Of shadows
By Light.
Creator’s hands bearing down
Stroking, enfolding
The silken dark.
Tell me your secrets.
The truth will set you free.
Take hold of this Light.
The way is deep into mystery
And verity.
Creator, dispersing Light into the chaos,
Dissipating shadows,
Disbanding the umber shafts,
Bearing from obscurity,
Blinding radiance, for
Dispersing the shadows
Is a messy rooting out of the defiled
From deep fissures.
The Light, driven into the abyss,
Is a searing, sweltering alignment
To lucidity,
To sanity.
Creation is constant,
Alive, ceaseless, vast.
Grinding like ancient machinery
Climaxing in trumpets
And sonic wails
As darkness succumbs in
This cosmic union,
The luster of golden lambency,
The haze rising to the gloss
Of sacral rain.
This is transmutation:
The dark chasm of the soul
Recast into poetry.
©2018 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog
Image: “Transmutation” digital art ©2018 Martha Harris See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog
Sleep Chose Me
Sleep chose me
To take this walk on crisp leaves
Smothered by frost.
Colors, thread bare faces,
Glassy lattice in sun,
Forming halos for owls
As shade dissolves into moonlight,
Magical stasis.
Linger here in truth,
Alone with feathers of snow
Clinging briefly to crystal,
Blazing its fire,
Sizzling in waves of storm
Like smothered sand bits
On the wild shore
Holding my footing.
The colors dim into food for forest.
I trample the earth into new stone,
Bedrock for soul,
My blossom,
With the will to live
In granite.
©2018 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog
Image: “Building Blocks” digital art ©2018 Martha Harris See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog
