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Violet Flame

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

Healing · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

Transmutation

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

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

No Escape

This is an older poem but a more descriptive image of and by my sister Martha suffering her Multiple Sclerosis pain. Many suffer from this horrible disease, and I pray a cure can be found.

No Escape

It slithers in as

Snakes mating pain,

Pain entwined,

Breeding this labyrinth of

No escape.

No way out of this writhing mass,

This mass, secreting away Light.

This pain, eating the Light,

Our stars of many colors,

Forced as lanterns for

The rising heads of the serpents, or

Our souls, are they in formation

To defeat the onslaught?

Pain, this confused muddle

In the line of the Fire of the stars,

Blazing through the delirium,

The Light in the void,

The Fire in the pit,

Consuming the venom.

For pain,

No escape.

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

Image: “Living in ‘It’” ©Martha Harris (my sister) See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog

Audio · Healing · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry · Quotes

Do Unto

Do Unto

 

We seem to be in a daze

In this Dance of Life.

Is this My life 

Or is it Our life to grow as One? 

What I do to You,

I do to All 

And mainly to Myself.

 

My fear and anger,

My rage,

Reside in My body, not Yours.

I am killing Myself with disease

Because I despise You.

 

Because I abhor You,

I abhor Myself.

Because I loathe Myself, 

I loathe You more! 

I despise Your face and Your skin!

I deplore Your poverty!

Your children disgust me! 

I resent the fact that You are not of My tribe! 

 

Your needs are deplorable because

Mine are greater!

Your fear of loss is pathetic because

My fear of abandonment is much deeper,

Much deeper than Your sorrows. 

 

You can’t have what is MINE!

You CAN’T have what is mine!

YOU can’t have what is MINE!

 

I despise YOU because

You feel entitled to what is 

MINE!

 

And I’ll scream at YOU until MY pain is heard!

Until I’M seen and heard

Because I feel invisible and mute,

Helpless, disrespected, disowned.

 

It’s taught that

What I do to You,

I do to Myself,

The anger and fear bind My soul, not Yours,

And poison My blood, not Yours

My loathing is Self-loathing. 

I Abhor My face, My skin, My poverty, My children!

My soul is deplorable!

So You must suffer

Because I am in such pain, and 

My life is at stake! 

My home, 

My money,

My tribe!

 

It’s taught, 

Unto you,

Unto me.

What I do to you, I do to myself.

 

How can We heal this cycle of fear?

How can We love? 

If only I could love My own soul, then 

I could love Yours more and 

Heal this anger, this 

Cancer, this

Malignancy, this

Contagion.

My anger and fear are toxins 

Tearing apart My heart, not Your heart.

 

When can I finally see,

When can I finally feel,

Unto You,

Unto Me.

What I do to You,

I do to Myself.

 

Unto Me,

Unto You.

What I do to Myself,

I also do to You!

 

When can I know?

When!

 

 

 

Poster ©Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Digital Art “Dancing Daze” ©Martha Harris