Audio · Ekphrastic Poetry · Poem · Poetry

The Mirror of Fear

The Mirror of Fear

What is fear?

Fear is not an itsy bitsy spider or a snake.

It is in this mirror, so look inside.

See yourself as thoughts.

Thoughts can have claws

That grasp your eyes,

Forcing you to see

Only shadows and suspicions as Truth.

 

Fears can lay claim to you –

If you are in wakeful slumber –

And discolor the Light

Streaming from your eyes,

Blinding you to

What is Law,

What is Truth

What is Blessed

Unless you awaken to the knowing that

 

Fearful thoughts may birth a Monster,

Growing eight legs,

Crawling into your Self,

And making webs

That bind your heart to

Trap vermin, for at the very least,

Fear will make a feast of you.

 

Fear mouths caustic and corrosive words

Spiraling into smoke upwards from fire,

Becoming tentacles of lightning

Splitting your House in half and

Consuming your Buddha Soul.

But Fear will claim you had set this blaze, not she,

For she is the Great Manipulator.

 

Fear is Ego, the Beast,

Fed by her friends who are

Complicit in heinous actions and betrayals of you

Regardless of color, station, or creed.

Though in words the Beast is the Richest,

The Biggest, the Best, the Most High.

 

Ego is deaf to all but to her own voice.

She clamors with empty notes of grandiosity,

Unblessed streams of cacophonous disharmony

Wailed in false-etto.

She mesmerizes you into chanting her name, for

Ego loves her own soul and possibly

Those dressed in her image, for

Who else could she trust?

 

And if you see Ego’s crimes,

She is but the victim

Of your malpractice, right?

She projects her doings onto you.

You are unholy, not her.

Get It? You’re the loser.

You are the problem.

You are the disaster.

You are to be scorned.

You are to be defiled.

You are to be ridiculed

For exposing this Great Wonder.

 

Ego is kin of the Wicked Witch,

Who banished Snow White

For being the Fairest in the Land.

Ego loves those she can trample or smear,

For you are but a minion in her eyes

And worthy of her ridicule and shame.

As long as she is able to diminish you,

No one will be The One, but Ego.

 

Through the bravado,

Ego consumes all creation.

What can be forged by this Fear Beast

But a cold sweat?

There is no art in Fear,

Only incoherence in forms

And rambling tales,

As told by the choking tweets

Of dying birds.

 

Ego lies and deceives,

Making a wedding of

Nightmares and presentiments,

Muddling order and

Tangling lives into a bramble of thorns,

Suffocating souls, and

Drowning them under mushrooming thoughts

Of toxic orange horror

Unleashed by the despotic Sisters of Fear, for

They love your screams and pleas for salvation!

As long as you are in disharmony,

These ghouls have your soul.

 

So take heed.

Wake up to knowing.

Fear is Ego; Ego is Fear.

The antithesis of Love.

Ego bears her creed and

Her shield of ghouls masked as

Bowing Saints ready to do her bidding or

As the Winged Monkeys in Dorothy’s nightmare,

Flying forth from the tower to apprehend

The Tin Man, Scare Crow, and Cowardly Lion,

So you have worse to fear

In this your shiny mirror

Than tiny spiders and snakes.

 

Copyright© August 17, 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard

Image: http://fantazia.centerblog.net/rub-gifs-animes-miroirs-.html

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Audio · Poem · Poetry

Grief

Grief is ice.
Anger is fire.
Fear is boiling oil.

Aging is a slow death.
Feeling outmoded.
Feeling regretful.
Feeling guilty.
Feeling fearful.

Maybe it doesn’t matter.
Why do I care;
Who cares.
I ask for clarity and energy.

What matters is you.
Just be happy.
These are mole hills, not mountains.
Can’t bring back love.
Can’t fix everything.
Can’t outdo.
Can’t worry about recognition.
Can’t worry about inequity.
It’s not important.
It’s their blindness.
Just be grateful.

What makes me angry?
Am I letting go of the past?

Another shell breaks open for new life.
Growth emerges after fire.

I recall in times of despair, they said, why aren’t you angry?
I held it in selfishly. I couldn’t speak or cry out.
Why would it matter. Really.
If I shouted and screamed.
As much as I tried, I couldn’t.

I beg, please lift this darkness.
There’s too much to do other than what I’m supposed to do.
There’s too much loss with more on the way.
Is this life? Am I wrong to be concerned?
I’m angry and sad.
I’m ready to let go of it. But how?
It doesn’t end.

You counted the Mala beads.
This is a process. Just be patient. You did ask for this.
Seeking forgiveness in all lifetimes
Seeking gratitude in all lifetimes
Letting go of anger in all lifetimes
Healing curses in all lifetimes
Curing pain in all lifetimes
Seeking grace in all lifetimes
These are all gifts
Not burdens.
You chose to release the shadows.

It’s searing
Like the sun is inside of me
A blazing fire
I scream to the deaf.

It’s a cleansing
With the Light.
And so it is.

 

Copyright © 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard

Image: Kingdom of Sorrow  http://szydlak.deviantart.com/art/Kingdom-of-Sorrow-390145418

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