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

Audio · Healing · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

A Message From the Nightingale

Here is the complete poem and audio based on yesterday’s post.

A Message from the Nightingale

 

At times, it seems I wander alone in pain,

Friendless, except for the wounds, so

I seek a guardian for fortitude and healing

From a realm of unseen glory.

 

The nightingale sings that

The gate’s not closed.

Your prayers are heard

Along the songlines

In the Great Garden,

Exploding into spectrums of light.

Surrender to calm.

Your guardian is here, for

Your prayers are keys to her abode.

The gate’s not closed.

It is your heart.

 

©Barbara Harris Leonhard@extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

YouTube link to Nighingale Songs: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NK2_bcQcoD4&t=611s

Image: digital art  “Nightingale Song” ©Martha Harris

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Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry · Reiki

God is at Work

God is at work.
God is at work.
God is at work.
We have seen the crust of time
Open like a door to baby stars
As ancient ones go nova,
Opening the way for rebirth.
Fear is healing
Fear is healing.
Fear is healing.
This pain,
This wound,
This infection
Has risen up from the abyss
For healing.
We have felt the pain
Of this open wound
Screaming into our hearts.
Many could not bear the
Cosmic cries for
Transmutation of this deep wound,
Not knowing
God is at work.
God is at work.
God is at work.
New stars, bursting through
The fabric of time,
Healing the matrix with
Light.
Let there be Light.
Let there be Light.
Let there be Light.
And so there is.

Copyright ©2018/03/24 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

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Image: “Universal Wonder” Digital Art ©Martha Harris

Honors · Poem · Poetry

Becoming a Barista Favorite

February 12th was the first Promote Yourself Monday at Go Dog Go Cafe. We would like to share the Barista Favorite with all of you, written by Barbara Harris Leonhard at Extraordinary Sunshine Weaver. My body was a cage With only eyes for doors. My arms, contorted, Like branches twisted in shadows. Voices, hollow sounds, Called […]

via Barista Favorite: Hope Was Not a Loss/Barbara Harris Leonhard — Go Dog Go Café