Art, ascension, change, Connection, Poetry

PIGEON.

The pigeon
He flies, he flies.
He walks, he walks.
Head bobbing back and forth.
Bobbing back and forth.
He squeals, he shrines.
Birthing blue and yellow lines.
In those tails to tell.
Or those tales to ten.
He talks to squawk.
On a broken bork.
No lies to tell.
I wonder.
Do pigeons smell.

Poem and art – Helen Rebecca Hart.

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

H-ART

H-ART.

Life to me is art.
An expression of our selves in each and every given moment.
An introspection expressed outwardly in any given way.
Flavours.
Colours.
Form.
Passion.
Emotions.
All.
A reflection and deep immersion.
Shown and found.
Created and fed.
Food.
Love.
Relationships.
Expressions.
Sound.
Play.
Clothes.
Music.
Life.
We are all creators.
Our differences can create unity.
The yin to the yang.
The circle around shadow and light.
The circle of life.
Acceptance of all.
As it is.
In each given moment.
In each flavour of form.
Home – found in the whole or the hole.
We are each and all throughout our many lives, faces, names, guises, realities, truths.
Seperate, together.
Full or hungry.
Here or there.
Everywhere.
Art is life and passion is my fuel.
So very filled right now yet not a filled purse in sight.
Life an experience.
An expression.
An exquisite diverse journey of artwork.
Many forms.
Many colours.
Many contrasts.
Many lively moments.
Even in the stillness.
A beating heart.
Pulsates.
A friendly breath.
Circulates.
A living breathing art form.
Is that which we are.

Bec Hart.