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

To Heal

To be mindful

is to heal.

Stay focused and decide

To be whole

Though critics say no.

Fear is drought

To the garden.

Let thoughts wander past

As breeze.

May you be robust,

lively, and flush,

Blooming to your prime

As rising sun

Heating the soil

For rain.

May you be the nourishment

Ministering to your heart.

You are the medicine, the cure,

The healer.

 

 

©2018 Barbara Harris Leonhard@extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image: “Sands of Time” digital art ©Martha Harris See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog

 

 

Healing · Poem · Poetry

Homo Sanctus Sanctus

Homo Sanctus Sanctus

When the well sinks into the deep, and

The songs ring flat. When colors fade

To ice and snow. When the sun sets too fast.

And sleep is needed just to breathe.

When good tidings weep without solace, and

The strains of Noel are but tearful whispers.

No one can hold these holy notes alone.

You alone should not bear the burden of

Dust to dust. This is sacred work,

To restore your Being, to evoke your Soul,

Despite the tangle of muddle in the mundane, where

Your disquieted mind diverts you from

Your path. As you flounder, may we be of service.

May we be the weavers drawing your threads into

The tapestry of grace.  May we be the space holders

Bearing up your sorrow for

Transmutation on this bridge of Light,

Offering the way for us all to thrive.

We are harmony, interwoven by cords.

Our affinity reverberates in the geometry

Of the cosmos. We are one on this journey

Infinatum.  Onward. Onward.

Onward. Still, a foundation can crumble,

Spinning us Homo sapiens sapiens

Into a deathless chasm and endless

Drowning in shadows. Without you,

The compass is not viable. Without you,

We agonize. Remember who you are.

Your song resounds in Excelsis Deo.

You are the hymn, echoing light and love.

 

Eros el mago. You are the mystery, the magician,

Creating sacred alchemy though the effort

Can be painstaking and insufferable,

Full of fear and regret, guilt and shame.

As biography begets biology into bloody

Mayhem, you can recast this malaise,

Gradually interlacing it to the Light.

You are the cosmos, made of filaments

Of nebula, and the framework of planets,

You are spiraling brightly in helical orbits

Divinely connected to the web of life.

The macrocosm is your microcosm.

There is nothing wretched in the Holy.

You are the blessed child entering the castle and

Feasting on the ambrosia of bliss

And joy. We need you. We so need you.

We cannot uphold this firmament without you

If we lose our hold. Eros el curador of debility,

Desperation, and despair. Your grace is a baptism.

A holy communion of purifying fire

Igniting soul out of ash. May you bolster us and

Redeem us, our healer, Homo sanctus sanctus.

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https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

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Notes if needed…

*”Eros el mago” in Spanish means “You are the magician.”

*”Eros el curator” in Spanish means “You are the healer.”

*”sanctus” is Latin for “holy” or “sacred”

Carolyn Myss teaches the our biography creates our biology. This simply means that how we live affects how we thrive as a biological life form.

In the book The Gene Keys Unlocking the Higher Purpose of Your DNA, Richard Rudd uses the term Homo Sanctus, which I found inspiring.

Nick Seneca Jankel reports of a serendipitous experience in which he was approached by a stranger in India who said, “Eros el Mago” to him. This experience helped ignite an awakening. (Coast to Coast AM, 12/12/2018).

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©2018 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image: Orion Nebula from Pixabay (I chose this image because it depicts a web and a bridge.)

Healing · Poem · Poetry

Join Me

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

Original Digital Art · Poem · Quotes · Reiki

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