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.)

Audio · Poem · Poetry · Reiki

What is Healing?

What is healing but
The stabbing to death of pain,
The banishment of shadows,
The release of sorrows,
The burning of poison arrows.

The diseased are their own healers.
Healing requires arbitration and litigation,
For Illness takes possession
As the unwelcome tenant in the temple,
Stripping away a clean visage,
Creating squalor and decay,
Planting bramble in the garden,
Making infertile the soil;
Evading eviction, and even
Dismissing kind offers for other accommodations.

Illness commandeers the ego,
Becoming its own soul.
This unwelcome tenant deceives,
Creating attachments,
Becoming dependable,
Appearing useful,
Providing false amenities, while
Ordering demolition to your heart.
And in so doing,
Laying claim to your prosperity.

But healers can vanquish this tyrant
From their sacred property
Once they know their powers, for
It is the landlord who holds
The keys to the mansion and
The one who can open the gate.

Healer, awaken;
Heal yourself.
Break this unholy contract
Wrought by the thief
Inhabiting your house and
Garnishing your treasures.
Continue reading “What is Healing?”

Audio · Ekphrastic Poetry · Poem · Poetry

Sacred Things

So many sacred things

We have in our lives

On dusty shelves

Or messy desks.

Hidden in plain sight,

Demure whispers from these

Soul collages.

Tiny angels and fairies,

Happy Buddhas sitting on lace,

Quan Yin, chipped from a fall,

Shamans and crystals,

Creating shadows of light

On our pens.

Handmade dolls with stories,

A figure holding the ball

Next to the Tao,

Bracelets of jasper and jade,

Geodes holding mala beads,

Singing bowls and

Stone owls chiming wisdom,

Oma’s thimbles,

Gifts of glass beads and feathers,

Heart-shaped sandstone,

Wooden boxes holding stones from the river,

Collages dressing books.

Treasures sparking intuition,

If only we listen.

Copyright © 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard

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