Art, ascension, change, poet, Poetry, purpose, rebirth, Source

FIRST I MUST BREAK.

FIRST I MUST BREAK.

There’s a mighty roar of oceans.
Oceans that want to reach out and pour.
A mighty roar of oceans.
That want to breathe life once more.
There’s a new beginning.
Stripped bare from what was before.
As I shed my hair.
In to the wind.
Leave the one behind.
Who once was.
She doesn’t fit in.
No in the concept of herself.
No more.
A need to move forward.
Or upward.
The old had no more room to grow.
No place to go.
The silence too still.
No will can take this lake.
A touch to talk.
One word may breathe, breath, walk.
First I need to break.
To feel the wind within.
The willows bloom breath.
The heart breathes gold dust.
To dance as the field.
Without a care for more.

Poem – Helen Rebecca Hart.

Art, change, fun, Intuitive, life, love, Messages, musings, Mystic, One, poet, Poetry, presence, purpose, rebirth, relationships, Source, Spirit

THE KNIGHT, THE MAIDEN AND THE SMILING HORSE.

THE KNIGHT, THE MAIDEN AND THE SMILING HORSE.

Never a fan of fairy tales must you know.
Something seemed odd.
Rather a no, no.
Knight came on his horse.
White, shiny armour intact.
She said, “Why wear the armour.”
Is your heart bruised and bashed.
I was told it was needed to rescue you dear.
She said, I don’t need rescuing, listen here.
My motive is love.
It is eye and ewe.
The horse a mystery.
Donkey once knew.
They all looked and laughed.
Walking separately.
Together.
Liberation at last.
Never was a prison.
Seasons and weathers.
We all have hearts.
One heart.
Well I never.

Written by 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, change, Community, Connection, Death, life, love, lyrics, Messages, musings, Poetry, rebirth, relationships, Source, Spirit, spirituality, Trauma

FEATHERS.

There’s this point in time where you realise you’re the one who’s betrayed you the most.
Denying yourself of your true self.
Fitting into an old scene.
Dying in each day.
Holding on to old pains, hurts, lovers, ways.
Not seeing you as you truly are.
A vision that cannot be seen with words.
There’s this deep conflict.
This anger, terror, rage, foaming, forming.
Rotting inside.
It’s not there to hurt you nor another.
It speaks in the silence.
It has the answers of self betrayal.
Denied pain, denied joy, denied tears.
In a world where we’ve all been a victim and perpetrator.
We choose to see ourselves as one or the other.
Like there is a good and bad.
At the deep core of both is fear and betrayal.
Fragile, rotting, shaking, bed wetting, fear.
Self rejecting, abandoning betrayal.
What does your heart desire.
If you move through this fear you find life.
Fragile, shaking, breathing, fresh crisp air filled life.
Breathing bounty into your being.
Who are we.
Who are we not is the question.
Everything yet nothing.
Nothing yet everything.
See to flow with life as breath.
You have to loosen the grip.
Allow yourself to be all.
Experience all.
Like a baby.
Allowing each breath to pass through.
Without needing to know there is a breath.
What it looks like or what it truly means.
Just allowing the rise, the fall.
The black and white and colour as all.
To truly live is to accept all of you, of all.
In that there’s no acceptance visible.
It ceases to exist.

Art + musings – Helen Rebecca Hart.

addiction, Art, ascension, change, life, Messages, rebirth, spirituality, Trauma

UNHEARD, UNSEEN.

I don’t wish to know how much you forgive them.
I want you to truly sit at the edge of that pit of despair and truly see.
I want you to feel what happened.
How you felt, what really goes through your mind, is it truly how kind they were.
The sickening abuse, the denial, the projections aimed at you, did you really deserve it.
Held inward, our little secret.
We get on with life.
Hidden within the body of a lie.
The rage hidden, simmering under a brick wall in the gut.
The hate you project at yourself.
So kind to others though.
Why is that.

Feel.
Feel, swear, break free.
If they judge, so what.
Be true to you.
The you you’ve never met yet.
Lost in who you thought you was.
They’ve gone, no going back now.

Break yourself to feel and fall.
Run, swear, kick, scream, allow.
Be untamed.
Lose control.
You are safe.

Be wild.
Wild without fear.
Wild without destruction.
Wild without abandonment.
Roar.
You are going inwards not backwards, allow.
Don’t fear what you feel.
There is no wrong.
That story was once told by someone who didn’t feel.
Hidden by a blanket of suppressed denial.
“I’m ok, be happy.”
Abandon the world’s ideal.
Lose the envelope.
Pull out the letter.
Tear it up.
Cry, scream, rage, pour.
Feel.

When you’ve felt all you can.
Fall.
Fall into the earth.
Held.
Free.
Unbound.
Released from the prison of unheard screams.
No longer enslaved by emotion.
The prison has past.
Breathe. Know. You are pure.

Written by Helen Rebecca Hart.