Art, ascension, change, Community, Connection, Death, God, lyrics, Messages, musings, Poetry

WHO AM I.

When words cease to exist.
There is no scope to wander.
I wander when wonder left.
Escape left the boat.
Am I really deep down under.
Vices.
Alarms.
No tales to tell.
Addictions I roll eyes at.
Nothing fills the well.
Mind wants to control.
Soul feels buried deep.
Who I once thought I was.
Has run and played no seek.
Mundane as eating cardboard.
Boxes go to hell.
I just can’t find my self anymore.
Ones self has lost the shelf.

Art, ascension, change, Community, Connection, Death, God, Intuitive, life, lyrics, Messages, MOVEMENT, musings, Mystic, One, philosophy, Poetry, rebirth, relationships, Revolution, Source, Spirit, spirituality

ARE WE ALIVE OR IS IT THE BREEZE THAT BREATHES THROUGH WE.

ARE WE ALIVE OR IS IT THE BREEZE THAT BREATHES THROUGH WE.

Does it bare life.
Does it stand strong.
Does the wind fling it around.
Singing the winds song.
Is it dead, stood still.
Rigid.
Rigamortis.
Yet the air breathes through its vessel.
Perceiving life’s liveliest wishes.
An instrument with no player.
A silent sound – minus the mute.
A foot of the climber adorned with no boot.
A dragon – no wings.
How does one fly?
The day – no night.
A lid – minus eye.
The arc minus rainbow.
Hologram in a bin.
Cherry pie in the sky.
The portal within.

Poetry Bec Hart.

Art, ascension, change, Community, Connection, God, Intuitive, life, lyrics, Messages, MOVEMENT, musings, Mystic, One, philosophy, Poetry, relationships, Revolution, Source, Spirit, spirituality

THE TIDE, THE TURN.

THE TIDE, THE TURN.

The wind it moves,
A sacred dance.
A loose structure,
Pure cleansing, trance.
The wind holds eyes,
In ancient skies.
Orange, red.
A holy bed.
A resting wake.
A longing tooth.
From foot, to eye.
From brick, to roof.
Upon ancient winds.
The tide shall turn.
Some will win.
Some shall learn.
In both, a winner.
No loser, in-sight.
The Earth.
The wind.
Blows wolf – away.
Angelic might.
Prophetic delight.

Art and poetry created Feb 2020 – Bec Hart.

Art, change, Community, Connection, Intuitive, life, lyrics, Messages, musings, Poetry, Source, Spirit

TREE TO LIFE.

TREE TO LIFE.


Bare branches,
Old.
Aged.
The stories you could tell.
Only you don’t speak my language well.
A mystery of violet.
A hidden wishing well.
Crooked bones.
Wildlife homes.
Ancient, I can tell.
Tall, slender and crooked small.
A picturesque wonder.
I see you.
All.
I breathe your waste.
You breathe mine back.
A cycle of life.
Breath, purity, fact.
They ancient trees.
They speak to me.
I hear them now.
They speak through me.
Energy pours through,
All of me.
I as the tree.
The tree as me.

Bec Hart.

Art, ascension, change, Children, Community, Connection, Death, fun, God, Intuitive, life, lyrics, Messages, MOVEMENT, musings, Mystic, One, philosophy, rebirth, relationships, Revolution, Source, Spirit, spirituality, Trauma

BEFRIENDING THE ENEMY.

How 24 hours can shift your reality.

Yesterday wasn’t an ordinary day as mentioned in my last blog, I felt like I had gone backwards, way back in time. Way back in time with a totally different perspective yet there were many realisations, many! It wasn’t a very nice place I went to admittedly.

The call for balance in my life was most definitely the most profound realisation, as I realise that I’ve somehow managed to become too focused on within and really would like to be outdoors more and socialising.

Fear was still playing it’s sad song in the background of my life preventing me from coming forward with my gifts, using the same old excuse of, “I don’t know how or nobody needs me, haven’t got a purpose.” Screams of coming last in everything as a child. Although last place/backwards is the best place to be as you get to see everything in full colour and surround sound.

I’d love to know if anyone else does this form of self sabotage to avoid shining in the spotlight (which may never even happen).

Today totally different mindset, I actually received a message off a friend who could truly see me. The power in someone acknowledging you is profound, you feel less alone with it somehow. What impact that has is something I could never ever explain. Just like how I somehow manage to travel around in time, maybe one day I will know more about this but it’s something I’ve done since I was really young. I remember certain events that happened say at 15 then I found out it occurred 10 years later but this was an event for me to remember as it was a guide for what I would be doing later in life.

This has happened to with artwork only for them to come true in my life at a later date or even uncovering past events and the connection between all.

My life feels unusual at times, I feel unusual at times. I’m not sure if it’s because I am or this is happening with lots of people and we don’t speak out because of fear.

I’m here speaking out, I’m not hiding anymore. I love all of me, even in the darkness and strangeness of reality – if there is such a thing.

Heart still a little tender today but I’m breathing and that is truly the basis of life.

I am alive.

Art, ascension, change, Community, Connection, Intuitive, life, lyrics, Messages, musings, Mystic, philosophy, Poetry, Revolution, Spirit, spirituality

Bi-Son – Tri- Son – Two suns to 3.

There was a Bison.
Who held a tri-sun.
He faced the palm of I, sun.
Against the moon of wisdom.
Would he lie son.
Upon the nigh sun.
Oh I don’t know son.
Yet the TIME is here.
There was this space son.
Upon a face sun.
Yet you would know son.
Thine is the ONE.

Poetry, art, channeled video – Bec Hart.

Art, change, Community, Connection, fun, Incantation, Inner child, Intuitive, life, lyrics, Messages, musings, Mystic, philosophy, Poetry, Revolution, Spirit

THE TIDE, THE TURN.

The wind it moves.
A sacred dance.
A loose structure.
Pure cleansing.
Trance.
The wind holds eyes.
In ancient skies.
Orange – red.
A holy bed.
A resting wake.
A longing tooth.
From foot to eye.
From brick to roof.
Up.
On.
Ancient winds.
The tide shall turn.
Some will win.
Some shall learn.
In both a winner.
No loser.
Insight.
The Earth.
The wind.
Blows wolf.
Away.
Angelic might.
Prophetic.
Delight.

Poetry, video, content – Bec Hart.