change, Community, Connection, life, love, lyrics, Messages, philosophy, poet, Poetry, presence, purpose, Source

LAY UPON THE MANTLE.

Lay upon the Mantle.

When you take me through the storm.
You lay your hand upon my heart and rest me still.
There I layed upon the mantle of mist.
Held, caressed by Mothers breast.
Upon the Earth of times layed by a nearing of the song.
It shall call you, you shall hear it.
It sings your hearts true song.
The surges, vibration.
The tremors of flow.
Rising high, rising low.
A quiver of Earth.
Shake to fall.
So the dust does settle.
Risen up.
Yellow sun.
The call.

Written by Helen Rebecca Hart.

Art, ascension, change, Community, Connection, light language, love, lyrics, Messages, musings, poet, Poetry, relationships, Source, Spirit

THE TORREY, THE CALL.

On lock in lockdown,
Glass on eye.
Blue petals,
Confusion,
The days went by.
The torrey,
Took time,
Mine to call.
I made the choice,
To raise them all.
Pink petals,
Hot pink,
Pure love,
Lips sync.
Green lay still,
Beyond the hill,
We heard the call,
Together.
Through all.
There’s no distinction,
Big nor small.
Eyes.
Gates open.
Golden.
Call.

Poem + paint – Helen Rebecca Hart.

change, Children, Community, Connection, God, Intuitive, life, love, Messages, musings, One, philosophy, Poetry, Source, Spirit

GOD ALWAYS PROVIDES.

When I do not lay bread upon the ledge of the outer.
God always provides.
A bird carries a worm to show me their prize.
A cat brings a mouse to the alter of outside.
A magpie sweeps up and carries the mouse.
Is it my need or theirs that I take seed out from my hand to their mouth.
Do I trust in God If I take to my own ways.
Or are these old stories.
“Performing” in seemingly kind ways.

Art, ascension, change, Children, Community, fun, Inner child, Intuitive, life, love, lyrics, Messages, musings, Poetry, Source, Spirit

THE SOCK.

THE SOCK.

The sock.
Tic tock.
Yet it ain’t a clock.
Pinched to a wire.
Alone in the fire.
Tic tock, tic tock.
A sock with no flock.
Sock wiggled the world.
Was not looking for a buyer.
As the church bell rang thrice.
Sock came to see.
That the air one feels.
Such a pleasure, click of heels.
The Earth was his friend.
Breath and a wiggle.
Sock transcended higher.

Sock, photo and poem – Helen Rebecca Hart.

Art, ascension, change, Community, Connection, Death, God, life, love, Messages, MOVEMENT, musings, Poetry, rebirth, relationships, Revolution, Source, Spirit, Trauma

THE GATHERING.

THE GATHERING.

We gather to unite.
We gather to call.
The flame to the fire.
The wild through all.
To love.
To rise.
Slumber from sleepy eyes.
A flash of light.
Thunder.
To heighten.
Numbed thighs.
Surge penetrating through feet to crown.
Purge demonstrating release throughout.
Hold yourself dear one.
You are not alone.
The golden.
The christed.
The rainbow.
Your home.

Poetry + Art – Helen Rebecca Hart.

Art, ascension, change, Community, Connection, life, love, Messages, MOVEMENT, musings, philosophy, Poetry, relationships, Revolution, Source, spirituality, Trauma

BOUND TO BREAK FREE.

BOUND TO BREAK FREE.

Bound to break free of the patterns imposed on we.
From lives gone past.
Ancestral longings, locks last.
Bound to we.

I cannot carry the weight of these chains no more.
Denial isn’t an option.
Nor running and chasing.
No score.

Meet me face to face.
Dare you will.
Face our inner demons.
Consciously, still.

Meet me face to face.
Mirrors are loud.
In this space.
No masks allowed.
Discomfort turns red.
Hidden gets loud.

Take this into ourselves.
Feeling all that’s shroud.
Drop the guard.
Playing proud.

There is no war.
No power trips.
It’s for us to rise in our own ships.

Can you commit to healing all within.
Can you commit to yourself.
To break this bill.
Can you lay your weapons on the floor.
Let us pick up a rose.
For our very own hearts.
No need to impose.
Chainbreaking the goal.

I’m done with these energetic hidden games.
Peak out from the curtain.
No need for shame.
I’m not willing to be part of the hunger games.
I lay this to rest.
I will not remain.
In the hall of blame.

Burdened by binds of years gone past.
A fairy tale in duality.
A nightmare that lasts.
I need one not to make me whole.
This is not what I propose.
I care to break these binds.
For I, my self.

If you cannot rise.
Together.
Apart.
Then drop your pull.
Go.

Beating heart.

Art + poetry – Helen Rebecca Hart.

Art, change, Community, Connection, Death, God, life, love, lyrics, Messages, Poetry

BUTTERFLIES.

BUTTERFLIES.

Life so tender, shaky.
Feels hot when it rains with snow.
Life is so fragile.
In each moment we never know.
What comes next.
If it shall.
Any where.
Any way.
Brow to born.
Born to lay.
Or even if this.
Our dying day.
Each breath of life.
A tender hand.
A glimpse of love.
God’s golden hand.
The eye of fate.
A church bell rings.
A skipping rope.
A child that sings.
This shaky ground.
We rest upon.
Butterfly wings.
An angels song.

Poem – Helen Rebecca Hart.