Loop Poem · Original Digital Art

Labyrinth

This is a loop poem with the rhyme scheme of ab, cc, defg, hh, ii, jklm, nn, oo. 

Some days I just want to be alone

alone with my soul and sacred things

 

sacred things like collages, crystals and prayers

prayers holding grace up heavenly stairs

 

stairs that wind higher into vast space

space is the matrix of light and dark matter

matter enfolds all dimensions and souls

souls resound songs of different vibrations

 

vibrations shimmer with tones in the light

light flares rich hues from the dark to the bright

 

bright is the source of all in creation

creation is God/ Goddesses awesome play station

 

Playstation sells games that aren’t on my shelves

shelves are my places for books and dear treasures

treasures hold gold in my heart and my home

home is the place I escape all life tensions

 

tensions create anxiety and fear

fear is a captor that’s not of good cheer

 

cheer is the reason I remain in the sacred

sacred time with my soul will never be wasted.

 

©Barbara Harris Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Digital Image: ‘Labyrinth’  ©Martha Harris, Martha’s Artistic Flarings, artisticflarings.blog

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Healing · Micropoetry · Prose · Quotes · Reiki

Healing

The Light is coming in to heal the curse of Ego. As we stand aside, we feel the mighty force of Cosmic Light. It feels like we are losing our minds or that our faces are being shorn off.

This is a painful, visceral upheaval. We feel turned inside out and upside down. We are so dizzy we can’t stand up alone. The battling vibrations of Ego and Light are rocking our souls. We scream and cry out. We hurl our food and creep under the covers, hiding from the shadows.

Out of fear, we just want to die to stop this agony as all is being revealed, the pus of our gross illnesses is emerging. We suffer dysfunctions socially, politically, and environmentally. We have screamed out our prayers for comfort and healing.

The Earth, as well, rages with floods, volcanic eruptions, fires, Category 5 storms. But Mother knows the Light is here. We see it in the firefighters, the rescuers, the soldiers.

The healing is evident. Out of fire comes new growth. Out of eruptions come new lands. Out of storms comes renewal. Floods carry away the past.

The Light is here. It’s in our voices and our intentions. It’s in our manifestations. We wanted this healing, and we are getting it. We prayed for salvation and victory, and so it is. We think this pain is against us, but it is for us. It is answering our prayers.

This is Cosmic truth. Laws prevail. The universe is orderly, and equilibrium must be sustained. God maintains the balance of all life in all dimensions. The pendulum never swings in one direction.

A healing always feels worse before health is restored to wholeness. The wounds cry out until scabbed over. We’ve spilled our blood and sacrificed our limbs. How can we ever become whole again? It would be so easy to curse our condition! Damn this life! Why us!

In our victim stare, we hide in addictions. We bully. We put ourselves ahead of others. We lie. We seek revenge. In so doing, we become what we hate. Anything to mask the agony. We are so powerless in this state.

Little do we know, this is cosmic healing. It is God Force healing involving a huge upheaval of forces involving universal truth. Love will prevail. It always does, especially if we all participate as we are the shamanic link between Heaven and Earth. We are the healers bringing in the light.

Have faith. We are a strong force battling Ego so as to heal. Whenever  we stand together and speak up, rest assured that Ego never wins, Ego never wins, Ego never wins.

Love prevails. Nothing can block out the Light. Have faith. Stand aside. Let in the Light to answer your prayers. Become one with the Light. Be the prayer! Make it so!

 

©Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

 

 

Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

If Beyond Were Closer

If Beyond Were Closer

 

If beyond were closer,

Night would guard the morning

And flakes of leaves would glory

To scatter in the wailing

Wisps of wind dressed in threads

Of pale, endless fog mists

That rise to shelter peace.

 

Angels would strum the harps

Of infinite wired strings

Tangled in the wind’s breath

And tucked to rest beneath

The singing of the strings

And glory of the leaf:

 

Amid this still asleep,

The shielded morning haze.

 

Copyright ©2018/03/25 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

 

Image: Sunshine Moments ©Martha Harris digital art See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog