the rhythmic sound of your heart breaks the silence that threatens me..
The beating ever steady
The pulse of my being..
So deeply connected
Our rhythm in tune..
uncovering the secrets
I discover you new..
in the quiet of my mind
Our hearts rewind..
our love is a place
with
no space or time..
when it all looks different
and we can’t find our way
the beat of your heart will keep my spirit alive
and I’ll always remember us this way..
It is all new
this town of old..
as the simple beauty began to unfold
Seeing it with new eyes
It all came alive..
It’s vibrant, it’s real
awakens my soul..
enjoying watching people living their lives
laughing and chatting or
lost in their thoughts –
moments that matter
all at a cost..
Even those less fortunate-
the ones that reside outside-
show a sense of belonging,
adding beauty to the nitty gritty of the hard life they hold,
but never told..
These magnificent old buildings – the secrets they house – so many lives passed through their doors with the many stories hidden inside
They groan and moan, as if they are waiting to share with us, the lives unknown..
The past brings me present
I am reminded once more
That home is always home
no matter how I’ve grown
and old becomes new as it filters through you..
Beautiful
Pain, the Poet
Those who forgive,
Can they be poets,
For where is the poetry but
In released pain?
Pain, the fire breathing mist
Rising to rain.
Pain, the reddening blood
filling the veins,
The river of the soul.
Pain, the rooting to the sacral tree,
Birthing stories and songs,
Creating new souls out of barren wombs.
Pain, the cries from scattered tribes
Reaching for limbs and branches,
Anything to hold onto until dawn’s light.
Pain, the songs of ancestral curses
Clinging to the cells like webs
To be cleared in spring.
Pain, the dead rooting of loss
Blocking the secret chamber of the heart,
Where peace resides.
Pain, the tenant evading eviction,
Holding truth hostage
From inner sight
And auric brilliance.
Pain, the dirges and the hymns,
The shadows, dislodged and
Transmuted but not forgotten
In the poetry of forgiveness
And the forgiveness of poetry.
©2017/11/07 Barbara Harris Leonhard…
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Each change
is another goodbye..
Doesn’t mean I’ll fall or that I’ll cry
I have learned to read between the lines..
I feel you in the empty
I hear you in the quiet
You are the rhythm that moves me
stills me..
while life happens
we keep grooving to our sound
creating our own kind of tempo
changes may come
changes may go
I will not fear
together we stand tall..
I know what love is
And
When the sun goes down
You & I will still be found..
gentle words, harsh ones
loud words, quiet ones
all telling us something..
they are golden moments
Rare, precious and fleeting..
changing us – enlightening us –
parts of each one
making a whole..
freeing, growing and all knowing
we won’t walk this way again..
are you present
or just there..
really seeing and aware of all the love and care
that fill the atmosphere..
It is that air that fills our lungs with love, joy and despair..
I choose to care
I’ll let your chaos be my beauty..
lamarrwenrich 