artisticflarings.blog · Ekphrastic Poetry · Healing · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

Dark Apostle

Rising shadows of flames,

dressed in deep void, I arrive

to burn the bramble of your complacent life.

You hide inside this clay façade,

live for self in idle pleasure,

slumber in this carcass

of addiction and desire.

 

I hold you down as you writhe in agony,

thrive on your muffled screams.

You smolder in my odious breath.

My laughter, cackling flames.

You recoil, gasping for prayer,

rebuking this demon

and fear that this blood fire

is your last sunrise. Confess,

 

I fascinate you.

Though cast to the raging depths,

I still rise, a dark angel.

Not all wings are lucent.

This charred cloak is age old,

frayed by lies, greed, addictions.

 

Inferno flames are still divine.

I am the instigator, the phantom fire

plundering your earth

to crack open your seed

and hasten your growth.

 

For this you need me, Dark Apostle,

the harbinger sent to alarm and awaken,

to jolt you from trance

into rebirth.

 

revised The Dark Apostle 05/12/2020

©Barbara Harris Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog; meelosmom.podbean.com (Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul)

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

artisticflarings.blog · Ekphrastic Poetry · Healing · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

An Angel in the Dark

If I were an angel in the dark,

I would appear in flames simply

from the radiance of my eyes.

 

I would fire up candles for prayers.

I would make twilight shimmer

like a mirror still lake.

 

I would awaken you

from slumber and despair,

gather you up gently,

swaddle you in my gossamer wings.

 

I would cast out your pain with lightning,

incense your soul with soothing myrrh,

bathe you in waves of forgetting,

deliver you to a vista of light

on a path of comets as beacons.

 

I would gift you wings,

teach you how to fly through

clouds of many colors,

swing on stars falling into a sea of lights.

 

I would never leave you

in times of battle or new birth,

the time of the death of your pain

a blazing nova, a new sun.

 

All of this I would do for you.

 

Who would know more of the legion of light

than an angel of the night?

 

 

Copyright© 2017/10/10, revised 2020/04/13 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

My poetry podcast, Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul (meelosmom.podbean.com)

Image: “An Angel in the Dark” (original art © by my sister Martha Harris.) See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog

 

 

 

Ekphrastic Poetry · Poem · Poetry

Unless We Pray

The Coyote chases prey

its fur, matted where it lay

The Clown holds court and

the law is left to sway

as though he won’t have his day

The Trickster is King

and havoc he will bring

as we succumb to lay

much like cattle down on hay

The Jackal cackles

as the Dingo takes the babes

to slay

All Hail

All Hail

There’s nothing left to say

Unless we pray that

the Chariot comes our way.

B98CEE03-AC46-4BC2-AAD8-CD5C1ABDA8C5

©Barbara Harris Leonhard@extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Images: pixabay.com

artisticflarings.blog · Ekphrastic Poetry · Healing · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

Dark Apostle

Rising shadows of flames,

dressed in deep void, I arrive

to burn the bramble of your complacent life.

You hide inside this clay façade,

live for self in idle pleasure,

slumber in this carcass

of addiction and desire.

 

I hold you down as you writhe in agony,

thrive on your muffled screams.

You smolder in my odious breath.

My laughter, cackling flames.

You recoil, gasping for prayer,

rebuking this demon

and fear that this blood fire

is your last sunrise. Confess,

 

I fascinate you.

Though cast to the raging depths,

I still rise, a dark angel.

Not all wings are lucent.

This charred cloak is age old,

frayed by lies, greed, addictions.

 

Inferno flames are still divine.

I am the instigator, the phantom fire

plundering your earth

to crack open your seed

and hasten your growth.

 

For this you need me, Dark Apostle,

the harbinger sent to alarm and awaken,

to jolt you from trance

into rebirth.

 

revised The Dark Apostle 05/12/2020

©Barbara Harris Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog; meelosmom.podbean.com (Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul)

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

artisticflarings.blog · Ekphrastic Poetry · Healing · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

An Angel in the Dark

If I were an angel in the dark,

I would appear in flames simply

from the radiance of my eyes.

 

I would fire up candles for prayers.

I would make twilight shimmer

like a mirror still lake.

 

I would awaken you

from slumber and despair,

gather you up gently,

swaddle you in my gossamer wings.

 

I would cast out your pain with lightning,

incense your soul with soothing myrrh,

bathe you in waves of forgetting,

deliver you to a vista of light

on a path of comets as beacons.

 

I would gift you wings,

teach you how to fly through

clouds of many colors,

swing on stars falling into a sea of lights.

 

I would never leave you

in times of battle or new birth,

the time of the death of your pain

a blazing nova, a new sun.

 

All of this I would do for you.

 

Who would know more of the legion of light

than an angel of the night?

 

 

Copyright© 2017/10/10, revised 2020/04/13 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

My poetry podcast, Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul (meelosmom.podbean.com)

Image: “An Angel in the Dark” (original art © by my sister Martha Harris.) See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog