Healing · Poem · Poetry

Grace

 

the leaves have fallen and stomped to dust

I am laid bare, exposed to wind

my limbs, brittle, still pleading

for a meal of sun

some days too short for food

nests lay bare as squirrels forage

the wind cools me to my roots

I am glass

holding on to my reflections

lest they be lost to twilight yet

Grace clothes me in a gown

meant for a bride embracing her heart

this pure finery sparkles as diamonds

on my icy bough as

I rest with the Angel of Mercy

 

©2019 Barbara Harris Leonhard

extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

Image: my yard

 

Audio · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

New Audio: This Sand

The original post of this poem was March 18, 2018. My delivery style is inspired by the poet David Whyte.

Copyright ©2018/03/31 Barbara Harris Leonhard@extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

Image: “Sands of Time” digital art ©Martha Harris See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog

 

195B0EDF-C5B6-4251-A259-D3F88BC26641

Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry · Reiki

God is at Work

God is at work

God is at work.
God is at work.
God is at work.
We have seen the crust of time
Open like a door to baby stars
As ancient ones go nova,
Opening the way for rebirth.
Fear is healing
Fear is healing.
Fear is healing.
This pain,
This wound,
This infection
Has risen up from the abyss
For healing.
We have felt the pain
Of this open wound
Screaming into our hearts.
Many could not bear the
Cosmic cries for
Transmutation of this deep wound,
Not knowing
God is at work.
God is at work.
God is at work.
New stars, bursting through
The fabric of time,
Healing the matrix with
Light.
Let there be Light.
Let there be Light.
Let there be Light.
And so there is.

Copyright ©2018/03/24 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

 

Image: “Universal Wonder” Digital Art ©Martha Harris See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog

Ekphrastic Poetry · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

This Sand

This Sand

 

This sand,

Tiny bits of earth and rock,

Marking paths through thickets.

This ground, stomped flat

By those in search of berries,

Ambling lovers

With secrets in flowers.

 

This sand,

Tiny bits of earth and rock,

Creating mosaics and desert dust

Under hot sun,

A bed for cacti

Stretching to oasis.

 

This sand,

Tiny bits of earth and rock,

Amassed into clay,

Forming bricks for castles,

Mortar for walls,

Concrete for roads,

And glass for windows.

 

This sand,

Tiny bits of earth and rock,

Drenched in the tides

Of hungry waves

Pulling beachcombers

Toward the sea, and

Making a bed for

The feathers of gulls.

 

This sand,

Each tiny bit of sand,

Chiseled down from earth and rock

Into specks of hardened dust,

Beseeching the Light,

 

Am I enough

To hold up this world?

 

Am I enough

To bear this grace?

 

Poem: Copyright © 2018/03/18 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

Image: “Sands of Time” digital art ©Martha Harris See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog