artisticflarings.blog · Audio · Healing · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Memoir · Podcasts · Poetry · Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul · Publication · Writing

Podcast: Grief and Healing

I just published a new podcast episode which explores the grief and loss we are experiencing mainly due to the current pandemic and social upheaval. Our wellness is at stake, and those with pre-existing conditions are vulnerable. How can we maintain good health and navigate our grief when we experience loss of loved ones and disruptions in our daily life? Poetry can help us nurture compassion and heal on our sacred journeys.

https://meelosmom.podbean.com/e/grief-and-healing-1596140188/

I hope you listen, like, and share the link. My gratitude!

Contributors

Image: “New Day” ©Martha Harris, Martha’s Artistic Flarings, artisticflarings.blog

Clarissa Simmens is an Independent poet; Romani drabarni (herbalist/advisor); ukulele and guitar player; wannabe song writer; and music addict. Favorite music genres include Classic Rock, Folk, Romani (Gypsy), and Cajun with an emphasis on guitar and violin music mainly in a Minor key.

Facebook: facebook.com/RomaniGypsyBooks

WordPress: poeturja.wordpress.com

Amazon Author Page: t.co/JSvNROn15t (self-published)

Cynthia Cady Stanton is a hospice chaplain, bereavement specialist, speaker, poet and writer. She is a regular contributor to Phoebe. MD: Medicine + Poetry (https://phoebemd.com/).

Website: cynthiacadystanton.com

Blog: becomingandbeholding.blog

LinkedIn: linkedin.cynthia-cady-stanton-3599b823

Denise Fletcher is a freelance writer and artist. Her creative works have appeared in Bards Against Hunger, Kaleidoscope Magazine and numerous publications in the U.S., Canada and the U.K.

Blog: Poetry Curator – poetrycurator2020.blogspot.com

Laura Kelly Fanucci, Instagram: @thismessygrace

I found her poem “When This is Over” here:

https://www.americamagazine.org/faith/2020/04/10/podcast-meet-catholic-author-behind-coronavirus-poem-went-viral

Barbara Harris Leonhard is a writer, poet, and blogger. Her work appears in Phoebe, MD: Medicine and Poetry, Well Versed 2020, Spillwords; FREE VERSE REVOLUTION; Heretics, Lovers and Madmen; Go Dog Go Café; Silver Birch Press; Amethyst Review (pending); Pillbaby.com; and Vita Brevis. She is the author of Discoveries in Academic Writing, which is based on her years of teaching English as a Second Language at the University of Missouri.

Blog: extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Podcastmeelosmom.podbean.com

Sources:

https://www.newsweek.com/person-their-30s-dies-after-attending-covid-party-thought-it-was-hoax-health-officials-1517172

https://english.alarabiya.net/en/coronavirus/2020/07/08/Coronavirus-Weeks-after-husband-s-funeral-widow-dies-herself-from-COVID-19)

https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/wellness/anger-control-protests-masks-coronavirus/2020/06/29/a1e882d0-b279-11ea-8758-bfd1d045525a_story.html

https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/health/wellness-and-prevention/the-power-of-positive-thinking

 

 

 

Audio · Mother Earth · My Mother · Phoebe, MD: Medicine + Poetry · Podcasts · Poem · Poetry

Before Eden Fell

       

This poem is included in an article I wrote for Phoebe, MD: Medicine + Poetry (https://phoebemd.com/2020/03/12/fire-ice-the-faces-of-grief/).

The article is based on my poetry podcast Grief: Fire and Ice, which features this poem (https://meelosmom.podbean.com/e/grief-fire-and-ice/).

Before Eden Fell

We were all immortal,

our beauty, captured forever

in flora and fauna

so brilliant that light itself

had to blink twice

our true being stood naked

without shame

our reflection more lustrous

than knowing

brilliantine fabric

until the apple fell

into Mother’s soft hands

our Mother, the first to grieve

her garden lost

how she still clings to the maiden

the stunning beauty she once was

now deflowered, exposed to erosion

our Eden, our innocence and purity,

victim to change, to corruption, to decline,

our undoing

no one …. no thing is our eternity

our heaven forever

on this plane

nothing lasts

so we grieve

feeling abandoned by joy

and cast out of a divine place

though we cling to the fading innocence

of our Eden,

we bless grief

Written in Response to Robert Frost, “Nothing Gold Can Stay”

Nothing Gold Can Stay

BY ROBERT FROST

Nature’s first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf’s a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

**Poetry Foundation

My poem ends with, “We bless grief”. Why? I explain in my podcast. 😇

©2020 Barbara Harris Leonhard

extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

meelosmom@podbean.com (Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul)

Image: Pixabay

Audio · My Mother · Phoebe, MD: Medicine + Poetry · Poem · Poetry · Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul · Writing

Erosion

This poem is included in an article I wrote for Phoebe, MD: Medicine + Poetry (https://phoebemd.com/2020/03/16/alzheimers-grieving-the-loss-of-my-mother/).

The article is based on my poetry podcast Grief: Fire and Ice (https://meelosmom.podbean.com/e/grief-fire-and-ice/).

Erosion

A garden once planted in spring,

bearing life in shade and sun,

is now tangled with weeds and blight.

A hearty yield once sustained by dew and noon rains,

now forgets in autumn light.

Baskets of Gold, having bloomed and stretched for sun,

now shrivel, scorched by drought.

Honeysuckle, a trespasser in flora

that once nurtured monarchs and bees.

Wisdom of soils and seedlings,

now crumbles to dust.

Once a bounty of bliss, now wild bramble

on depleted soil.

Her secret garden.

399D6FDE-945B-480F-8C5E-27F0EA426F3B

©2020 Barbara Harris Leonhard (Revision of The Garden of Thoughts)

extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

meelosmom@podbean.com (Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul)

Images: my end of summer garden

Revised from A Garden of Thoughts

Audio · Healing · My Mother · Phoebe, MD: Medicine + Poetry · Podcasts · Poem · Poetry · Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul · Prose · Publication · Writing

Alzheimer’s: Grieving the Loss of My Mother

Phoebemd.com has published the second part of my article on my mother’s struggle with Alzheimer’s. You can access Part 1 via the link provided before the article starts.
These installments are based on my poetry podcast on this topic.
https://meelosmom.podbean.com/e/grief-fire-and-ice/
Please like, share, and follow. Others with loved ones who have Alzheimer’s may benefit from the information.

 

Phoebe, MD: Medicine + Poetry

By Barbara Leonhard

[This is the second segment of a 3-part series on Grief and Alzheimer’s. To read the first post, click here.]


As a way to examine grief and loss, I will share my story of the loss of my mother to Alzheimer’s, one of the most devastating forms of dementia.

What is Alzheimer’s?

According to the Alzheimer’s Association, Alzheimer’s Disease is a dementia caused by the building up of plaques—deposits of protein fragments that create spaces between neurons (nerve cells)—as well as tau tangles inside the cells of the brain itself.

View original post 1,538 more words

Audio · Healing · My Mother · Podcasts · Poetry · Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul · Prose · Publication · Writing

Poetry Podcast on Grief: Fire and Ice

I have another episode up on my Podbean podcast, Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul.

This podcast episode is about grief and in particular, my grief over my mother’s struggle with Alzheimer’s. I describe grief and the havoc Alzheimer’s wreaks on its victims, especially Mom. In addition to my poems, I include a poem by Robert Frost and another by Walter Bargen, Missouri’s first Poet Laureate, appointed in 2008.

Thank you for listening! This podcast is around 40 minutes.

https://meelosmom.podbean.com

©Podcast, Barbara Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

©Walter Bargen’s poem, “Migration” is from his book of poetry My Other Mother’s Red Mercedes (2018, Lamar University Literary Press)

Robert Frost reading “Nothing Gold Can Stay” https://www.modernamericanpoetry.org/video/robert-frost-reads-nothing-gold-can-stay

See also, Robert Frost, “Nothing Gold Can Stay”, Poetry Foundation

Image and Music: “Fire and Ice”, original tune ©Dierik Leonhard, Ironweed Bluegrass Band, found at ironweedbluegrass.com

Poem · Poetry

Status: Unfriended

We took for granted those easy days,

believing in bonds, implicit contracts,

soul groups, & kinships. Hugs were warm

& kisses real. We could smell the hot coffee

brewing for the brunches.

 

Life…the miles…

left us in the wilderness

without food or drink or matches,

only emojis, tags, and Messenger.

 

We foraged & survived.

We still upheld each in

sickness & in health

with laughter, long chats,

likes, dislikes, loves, hearts,

birthday greetings & get-well wishes.

 

Then into the cloud, you suddenly leave,

a departure unannounced…unexpected.

An enigma now separates us

without the tough talk

that can actually heal us –

Why?

 

A quick impulse?

A quandary of loyalties?

A careless regard for our Light?

A boundary?

Jealousy?

Revenge?

Fear?

 

The vase that held our flower has smashed.

Can gold ever realign the deep rifts in this vessel?

Who will mop up the mess that is us?

 

Our paths split on the labyrinth –

Will this winding course ever lead us to

rediscovery and reclamation –

or to isolation?

 

We slip away from memories

as though Death claims us.

Shock & grief swell though

there is no memorial,

no grave to tend to.

 

All that is not aligned falls away.

Was this connection illusory?

Status: Unfriended. Heart Broken

 

©Barbara Harris Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image: Pixabay.com

Poem · Poetry · Waka Poetry

So Long, My Friend

So long, my friend,

How short was your stay.

I was too caught up

In my mindless days

To sit with you

When your blooms were lush and

Singing in the sun and air.

You were glorious

Even when the snow surprised us all.

Still, you held your back up,

And your crown never fell.

You had bounty in your short time.

I could see your joy

As you swayed in the breeze

And drank in the sun and rain.

I took you for granted though

I said I would stop by more often.

Now as your beauty fades

To crumbled blooms,

Your smile drops and fades

Into the beds of periwinkle

Huddled to catch you, yet

You still seem to dance

As the breath of God gently

Blows your ash into soil

For another year.

 

img_0087

B6FC5C77-FF37-4199-B8C7-6625B9BA2A4C

 

 

©Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Images: my yard

 

 

Audio · Healing · Poem · Poetry

Gaia

Submitted to FREE VERSE REVOLUTION for the January 1, 2020, challenge. The theme is Gaia.

We are holding in the cries of fear,

Refusing to surrender to truth.

What can come of filling the streams

Of Gaia’s veins with our tears but a flood of pain?

Can the rifts in her ancient skin be healed?

Can canyon walls ever merge into a New Earth

Free of grief and loss?

 

The fingers of the Sun can only reach so far

Into the depths for galactic truth.

Has God succumbed to the Fire?

It cannot be so.

Though dense on the edges of Holy Planes,

Light is there.

Light and Shadow share one spectrum,

Always in battle for healing,

Finding the perfect balance.

 

Where Earth is upheaved grows new bounty.

The pain of ripping soil births potential,

Shimmering translucent as

Tiny perfect fingers rooting in Time,

Swaddled in constellations

Webbing Then and Now.

Time is connected on all planes.

Today’s prayers heal the past

As it has never ended.

All grief is omnipresent and infinite

If we remain in slumber.

 

Hope is wholeness.

The future is “I AM”.

Tears heal tears in the fabric of Time,

Filling in the rifts and canyons of geologic upheaval

With Love transmuted into cosmic truth.

We are One.

Our tears are Gaia’s rain.

The clogged well of each heart

Is her burden to bear.

Our actions become her prayers or her curses.

She cries in fire, wind and geologic torment when

We fail to love her power,

Which supports us in the lattice of her cosmic apron

To which we cling as babes born innocent

And slow to awaken to her grief,

Which is ours to bear.

 

Copyright© 2017/12/10 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

Image: Pixabay

 

 

 

 

 

Audio · Digital Art · Ekphrastic Poetry · Healing · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry · Reiki · Tai Chi · Uncategorized

Pain, The Poet

Pain, the Poet

Those who forgive,

Can they be poets,

For where is the poetry but

In released pain?

Pain, the fire breathing mist

Rising to rain.

Pain, the reddening blood

filling the veins,

The river of the soul.

Pain, the rooting to the sacral tree,

Birthing stories and songs,

Creating new souls out of barren wombs.

Pain, the cries from scattered tribes

Reaching for limbs and branches,

Anything to hold onto until dawn’s light.

Pain, the songs of ancestral curses

Clinging to the cells like webs

To be cleared in spring.

Pain, the dead rooting of loss

Blocking the secret chamber of the heart,

Where peace resides.

Pain, the tenant evading eviction,

Holding truth hostage

From inner sight

And auric brilliance.

Pain, the dirges and the hymns,

The shadows, dislodged and

Transmuted but not forgotten

In the poetry of forgiveness

And the forgiveness of poetry.

 

©2017/11/07 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

Image: Digital art “Out of Darkness, Light” ©Martha Harris See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog

 

 

 

Audio · Healing · Poem · Poetry

Gaia

Gaia

We are holding in the cries of fear,

Refusing to surrender to truth.

What can come of filling the streams

Of Gaia’s veins with our tears but a flood of pain?

Can the rifts in her ancient skin be healed?

Can canyon walls ever merge into a New Earth

Free of grief and loss?

 

The fingers of the Sun can only reach so far

Into the depths for galactic truth.

Has God succumbed to the Fire?

It cannot be so.

Though dense on the edges of Holy Planes,

Light is there.

Light and Shadow share one spectrum,

Always in battle for healing,

Finding the perfect balance.

 

Where Earth is upheaved grows new bounty.

The pain of ripping soil births potential,

Shimmering translucent as

Tiny perfect fingers rooting in Time,

Swaddled in constellations

Webbing Then and Now.

Time is connected on all planes.

Today’s prayers heal the past

As it has never ended.

All grief is omnipresent and infinite

If we remain in slumber.

 

Hope is wholeness.

The future is “I AM”.

Tears heal tears in the fabric of Time,

Filling in the rifts and canyons of geologic upheaval

With Love transmuted into cosmic truth.

We are One.

Our tears are Gaia’s rain.

The clogged well of each heart

Is her burden to bear.

Our actions become her prayers or her curses.

She cries in fire, wind and geologic torment when

We fail to love her power,

Which supports us in the lattice of her cosmic apron

To which we cling as babes born innocent

And slow to awaken to her grief,

Which is ours to bear.

 

Copyright© 2017/12/10 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

Image: Pixabay