ascension, change, Connection, Death, life, Messages, MOVEMENT, musings, Poetry, relationships, Revolution

UNCONDITIONAL…….

You stepped forth.
I hadn’t heard from you for a while.
My love didn’t die any in that time.
I knew deep down.
There was something unsaid, unheard.
Most definitely felt.

The circles, the patterns.
The pain, the peace.
I heard from you again.
No thing had changed for me.
You spoke.
I appreciated your deep honesty.
It must have been difficult.

I heard from you again.
You released me.
Thank you.
Beyond grateful.
Lost in space and time I was.
Lost.

Fly free my love.
Never far away.
One thought away.
Always here.
Just in another form.
Fly free Dear one.
My love shall never cease to be.
I wish you well.
My love.
My lessons.
Unconditional.
Freed.

Bec Hart.

Art, change, Connection, fun, life, lyrics, Messages, MOVEMENT, Poetry, rebirth, relationships, Revolution

DANGER, I WAS THE STRANGER – RED.

DANGER, I WAS THE STRANGER – RED.

They say danger is a stranger.
Yet I’m the one I lost.
Nothing stranger than the danger.
Of who you thought you was.
Leaping, pulling.
Dissecting from the one.
A million scattered shards.
An angel minus blood.
They say passion is a fashion.
I see passion get lost in lust.
The colour RED.
LOVE lost.
Heart bled.
Lover turned to dust.

Art, video and lyrics – Bec Hart.

Art, ascension, change, Community, Connection, Inner child, Intuitive, life, Messages, MOVEMENT, musings, philosophy, Poetry, relationships, Revolution, Spirit, spirituality

INVISIBLE.

INVISIBLE.

All I have is this moment,
this moment right here.
This moment in which I belong.
I have no answers.
I need no answers.
Point zero.
The colour green.

I heard something earlier.
My body triggered grief.
I took a step out of the moment.
I made conclusions.
My mind raced with evidence to back it up.
I captured breath.
I anchored the moment.
A powerful release.
No judgement.
Pure acceptance.
Free flow.

An interesting revelation.
I know no more.
I know no less.
I need not know.
No judgement.
Pure stillness.
I am in, this moment.
Present in this moment.
This vast space.
Point zero.
Colour green.
In this moment.
I AM.

SILENT SOUND HEALING. https://youtu.be/7F2UjoSvWlc

Art, Poetry & Silent sound – Bec Hart.

addiction, Art, ascension, change, Children, Community, Connection, fun, Inner child, Intuitive, life, MOVEMENT, musings, parenting, philosophy, Poetry, rebirth, relationships, Revolution, spirituality, Trauma

HINDER CALLED HELP – BREAKING BORN.

HINDER CALLED HELP – BREAKING BORN.

What when we strip it all away.
Working with no payment in sight.
Unconditionally sharing creation for passions wake.
Righteousness washed away.
What when we let go that old fairytale that others need us.
Knowing the truth, it is they whom need themselves.
Everyone is exactly where they need to be.
The universe guides all, not our ego self.
When we let go of our hidden trauma tendencies.
Lay our desperate helping hands on another shelf.
Our own dormant yet revolving health.
Fixing our mighty old reflection in the form of another, calling it help.
A need to assist a humanity who is far from broken.
To feel needed, wanted, good in a world – let us crack this fallacy open.
What when we admit our polarization causes pain not peace.
Attracts disaster, poverty, shame.
What if we lose our validation.
Our right to claim.
What is left.
Who are you.
Who remains.
A selfless act, a surrender to God.
God your highest self.
Whom sees everything is in perfect order.
Steps back into life’s creative corner.
Seen as selfish to others yet is this a service to all.
Had we been blindly fooled.
Mutters that they need you now more than ever.
Eyes see truth, go within rather than trying to “fix” another.
To glue together your perfect view.
What hope remains, in this old stale tale.
If we all committed to caring for ourselves.
What would our lives look like.
Would we be hidden on a shelf.
What if we stripped ourselves of everything we knew.
The absolute appeared.
Raw, awake, shaking, dripping with life.
No accolades in sight.
A true being of unconditional love.
A sight that shall blind.
Undeniably you.
Of pure life, love and truth.

Bec Hart.

ascension, change, Community, Connection, fun, Inner child, Intuitive, life, MOVEMENT, musings, parenting, philosophy, Poetry, rebirth, relationships, Revolution, spirituality, Trauma

DEAR MASCULINE.

DEAR MASCULINE.

We don’t desire you to worship us.
We don’t desire you to project at us either.
Please do worship yourself.
Your flaws, imperfections, darkness, light, love, compassion.
All you see in me, is within you too.
Your inner self is calling.
You are your Mother and Father.
Merge.
Connect to your inner feminine and allow her to speak, dance, flow.
For she is calling you.
Mirrored through me.
Your strength and power lay here.
Go deep and deeper, still.

We do not need a saviour, a warrior, a protector.
For I am, see, are all those as our self.
You were sold a lie.
One that could never be met.
Feel your feelings.
Break, cry, flow.
Hold space , yes.
Be there, yes.
More so, be you.
Be there for you.
That is more than enough.
We see you.
We hear you.

In those times you feel you miss another.
You are missing you.
There is an intelligent disconnect.
Misaligned to align further.
Go deep, go deeper still.
Enter that portal to love right there.
Within.
Alone yet never lonely.
Never truly alone.
Always held.
Hear your breath.
Feel your skin.
Taste the air.

We don’t need to be told we are loved.
We feel it.
We are it.
Equally.
As are you.
We see you.
We are you.
We are love.
It’s not to be sought.
Nor to be stole.
Yet to be still.

Allow yourself to sink into those parts you see as flawed, forbidden, bad, unhinged, unmasculine.
Apathy, empathy, lust, envy, sensitivity, insensitivity, childlike curiosity, wonder.
Shine pure light upon them and merge with their unique beauty.
As you are beauty itself.
Pour your sacred love and awareness into their deep, dark, suffocated flesh.
Breathe new life.

Dear Masculine.
More than ever.
Allow yourself to be you.
The true you.
Not the lie once sold.
The boy that felt everything.
The boy that accepted all as they are and were.
The boy who dreamt his biggest dreams.
The boy who spoke to stars of a night sky.
The boy that loved and loved some more.
Strip the mask.
You are safe.
The boy becomes a Man.
When your Child is heard, held, nurtured.
Life breathed into life.
Awake.
Aware.
So very whole.

Bec Hart.

ascension, change, Community, Connection, life, MOVEMENT, musings, philosophy, Poetry, rebirth

INFINITE LIFE.

INFINITE LIFE.

You break, we break and then some more.
Until all we thought we knew, are and were dissolves into nothingness.
Into this pit of grief, loss, voided territory.
The black hole.

Do we choose to a-void.
Or choose to jump right in.
Into the unknown.
Where no thing is clear.
Yet every thing is possible.
Deconstructing all we ever knew.
One day life may make sense.
Today may not be that day.
That is perfectly okay.

Allow the mind to rest or not.
Allow your feelings to wander, to flutter, to fold.
Be guided by the breath.
Of the breathing life that we all are.

Deep – Invigorating – Yellow.

Shallow – Fearful – Aqua/Pink.

Go deep in the shallow.
Go deeper – still.
In this deathly void.
Lies wonder.
I wander.
You wander.
We wander.
Into the unknown.

Birth.
A sphere of life.
Death.
Not who you are.
Yet all that was.
Without breath.

Take breath.
Breathe life.
For that is who you are.
Life.

Bec Hart.

addiction, ascension, change, Community, Connection, Inner child, Intuitive, life, MOVEMENT, musings, parenting, philosophy, Poetry, rebirth, relationships, Revolution, spirituality, Trauma

WE ARE ENOUGH.

I AM ENOUGH.

That deep down core validation.
Deeply deprived.
Unheard.
Unseen.
Not just a dent in the pride.

A soft subtle child.
Yearning for love.
Needing your care.
Feeling they weren’t enough.

The older they grew.
The more invisible they became.
Chewed up, spat out.
Riddled in shame.

Blame a pre cursor.
Before the event.
I need you.
I need you.
A dark dissent.

How could we see you.
We couldn’t see ourselves.
All our dreams on a dust ridden shelf.
We loved you all we could.
In our pain and strife.

We’re so sorry dear one.
There’s no need to fight.

You were always enough.
We didn’t know what to do.
Just one thing we want you to know.
It was never about you.

Bec Hart.