Audio · Ekphrastic Poetry · Poem · Poetry

New Audio: Free Climber

You are the mountain;

I, the free climber,

In awe of you

And timid,

Yet I ascend.

Parts of you open.

My fingers and toes

Take foothold in

Your stoic rock face,

The backbone of your Spirit.

But I, too eager,

Unsteady, I slip,

No rope to spot my fall.

Harder, I grip;

Upward, I embrace

The expanse of you:

Cold slate, blue shadow,

Whispers of wind entwine us.

You have me against you.

I am you;

I am the peak of you,

All around us the stars.

 

 

© Copyright 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard

Image: google.com

Audio · Poem · Poetry

Silence

Silence is asking for prayer.
Stillness is vision of inner truth,
Rooted to the earth,
To Gaia, who knows all of parts of us
as we are of earth, the Mother.

Silence is taking us
To Grandmother Spider.
Weaving us to Source, Christ Light lattice.

We are one.
When you breathe in,
I breathe out.
When you laugh,
My eyes sing.
When you cry,
I catch your tears.
When you bleed,
I bleed, cut down by
Your fear.

This web is all of Time.
It can’t be severed.
It clasps us in ancient binds,
And all our words are
Caught like flies
Forever trapped and recorded there.
Be careful with the words.
They are either poems
Or daggers.
Truth
Or lies.
They are heard by all,
Even the deaf.

Silence is the journey
Taking us to Source,
Father of All, who
Created light and darkness, and
From whom we emerge
To learn to love and create more light
And to whom we return
In the hymns of the spheres.
This is the journey
Silence brings us.
Seek silence,
Seek All.

 

Copyright © 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard

Image: http://www.cbc.ca/news/technology/living-holographic-universe-1.3959758

 

 

 

 

Audio · Poem · Poetry

It is My Soul!

The candle light

From the stained glass lamp

Reflected on the walls

Like splashes of stars

Is the lantern to my heart:

It is my Soul.

My Soul is splintering light

Splashed on the shadows of my heart,

The Beacon for my Soul

As the light draws night.

My Soul was once a fading candle

Dripping wax on my heart

And crying out to be lit.

As I light my Soul,

The hues of night

Brighten into day.

What is this dawn?

It is my Soul!

The colors of my Soul

Are hues of purple, blue, and red:

All shades of white,

All shades of black,

All shades of shades.

Without this light,

Where can I go?

‘Where you end is

Where you start.’

Fear, my guide no more;

No rowing on restless waves

Of tears that drown my heart.

Anger set the sail once ago,

But she has met a higher power:

It is my Soul!

There is no map to show me where to go.

But there’s a lamp to light my way:

It is my Soul!

And angels, if you are there,

Please tell me so.

Without this light,

Where can I go?

‘Where you end is

Where you start.’

I’ve never been alone

Though I have felt so,

Letting go my Soul.

And all my grief

Was from this point.

As I denied myself

For others’ sake.

So begins my journey

Out of harm and pain

To live and laugh again.

My Soul, my friend,

So long forgotten,

Now awakened

To the sound of my heart rising

Like the sun

On a crisp morning,

Ready to sail the heavens

On waves of heat,

Evaporating grief

And bitter dreams

From that long, dark night

Of running

From my Soul.

          This spirit song represents the turmoil we often feel as we struggle to find our way to the divine. We must make the choice to affirm our Spirit and invoke it to deliver us to the truth: that by seeking the divine, we find ourselves.

Copyright © 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard

Image: http://karenxavsphotography.blogspot.com/2011/07/candle-light.html

 

 

 

 

Audio · Ekphrastic Poetry · Micropoetry · Poem · Poetry

Mud Maid

Fair lady dressed in

Moss and lichens,

A perch for owls.

Luscious grasses, your hair.

You take the path on Heligan for

A long nap in the sun and

Dreams of timeless nights,

Though it is written,

“Don’t come here to sleep or slumber.”

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard

Image: Mud Maid in the lost gardens of Heligan  Sculptor: Susan Hill https://m.thevintagenews.com/2017/06/28/

 

Audio · Poem · Poetry

I Call to the Dawn

I am wasted by the weather

In a hastened death by wind,

Surrounded by a dream cloud gray,

And made to rest in the rain.

 

The umber bark of night limbs listen

To my fevered songs of lonely truth,

Which the stars do not grasp in sight,

And I feel for a sign of God.

 

So I turn to the meadow

And search in the moonlight.

I appease the black bird

To release the white.

 

At last, I find a tortuous path;

My footsteps deep in fog so thick

That I barely see it nudging me

At my side, the Dawn.

 

I call to the Dawn

And hold it tenderly.

It opens so softly;

I feel its vast stillness.

 

I tiptoe silently

Through and beyond

Each misty droplet

On its dewy plain.

 

Then as my hand slices

Its crystal breath,

I reach to kiss

The morning haze.

 

Copyright © 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard

Image: https://www.pixelstalk.net/foggy-forest-backgrounds-free-download/

untitled

 

Audio · Poem · Poetry

Spirit Guide Me

I.

Spirit guide me in this prayer.

Listen to my Heart song.

If You are there,

I am here by the pond,

Near an altar where

I raised my hands

And gathered You.

 

So now I listen to Your song.

Who am I here

But just a voice

Growing louder in Your words.

The sunlight falls like rain

On my Heart so thirsty

For the cup that holds the light.

 

I walk the path that winds

Around the labyrinth of my soul

To find the Heart of You,

Warm to touch, and so I do

Gather You and fill the cup

For just a taste to last

An age of a day to contemplate

My Heart and Soul,

My dust to dust.

 

Around me are the fallen leaves,

Iced then thawed this day

Of spring midst winter’s blister,

The trees warmed and stretching

With help from a rustling breeze

Of healing light held by stones

On this path to You.

 

And when You call,

No need to shout, now that

The door is opened to my Heart,

Which Shadow hid so long.

That door she could not close it right,

And from that crack, I felt the light

And could not turn away.

 

II.

Shadow, listen. You are vain

To think You know my real name.

We were mismatched from the start.

You grew like vine work on my Heart.

The vines like fear entangled me.

And sapped my Soul –

No nurture there –

And I felt like dry earth

Under crisp grass,

Parched, yellow, twisted

Crumbling in Your breath.

 

You called me Friend, and so I listened;

I had no choice, I thought

You were right.

And I waited for Your promise

To quench my thirst.

But the vines only tightened,

And I felt no air to speak

In that vacuum in the

Underbrush of my Heart,

Where worms of deceit

And grubs of despair

Made pathways in my hair.

And jealousy took hold in my eyes,

Once lanterns to my heart,

But now cold candles of you, Shadow.

 

There, no light, I worried,

Yet no tears could spill

From this dry vessel,

Just a fossil or an artifact

Of my Child Soul overgrown

In this infertile soil

Of my Shadow Soul.

 

And so You held me

Like a captive

With nowhere to go.

And so I feared that doorway

To my Soul.

And Spirit whispered so,

So I dare not say no

To this light breaking

The day lock on my Soul

 

III.

Spirit’s breath like crystals

Melting on my hungry lips.

The vines, now dry,

Like shackles falling to my heels.

I emerge, stretching upward

Like a candle flame of

Blue searing gold,

Gold searing orange.

 

Now I am pink and fresh

With tender skin

Warm, moist, unbruised

By Shadow’s grip.

And on my tongue

New words of Spirit’s songs.

 

IV.

So now I lay me down to sleep

In Spirit’s arms

Bundled in her lullabies.

Like Psalms to the Heavens,

The Truth unfolds its wings

Into many angels

Spiraling into the light.

They hold me close,

And in their stories,

I see myself in many colors.

I am crystal;

I am water;

I am memory

I am now;

I am tomorrow;

I am.

 

 

Copyright © Barbara Harris Leonhard

Image: Pixabay.com

 

Audio · Ekphrastic Poetry · Poem · Poetry

Free Climber

You are the mountain;

I, the free climber,

In awe of you

And timid,

Yet I ascend.

Parts of you open.

My fingers and toes

Take foothold in

Your stoic rock face,

The backbone of your Spirit.

But I, too eager,

Unsteady, I slip,

No rope to spot my fall.

Harder, I grip;

Upward, I embrace

The expanse of you:

Cold slate, blue shadow,

Whispers of wind entwine us.

You have me against you.

I am you;

I am the peak of you,

All around us the stars.

 

 

© Copyright 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image: google.com