ascension, change, Christ, Community, Connection, God, life, Messages, musings, presence, purpose, realisation, Source

BROKEN TO SEE.

BROKEN TO SEE.

Never have I ever felt so humbled in all my life.
My ankle broke yesterday, always a greater reason, always.
Two incredible people sat with me for two hours yesterday, called for an ambulance and waited with me in the pouring rain and mud, so appreciative and grateful for their kindness.
An ambulance crew come into the woods to wheelchair me to the ambulance, so grateful for their determination.
I feel so blessed for the health I have now.
I feel so blessed at the mental strength I have attained, I never realised how strong it was till now.
I feel so blessed to have supportive family and an NHS that are really caring and kind.
I’m grateful that the hospital have respected my wishes to do everything thus far without any medication.
I absolutely love the human spirit of people and there total utter beauty and depth beaming from their pouring hearts and souls.
Truly blessed to be sharing this experience with so many others in their pain, joy and human experience.
Life so fragile, love so strong.
It’s really opening my mind, heart and compassion to that which I’ve not seen for a while.
So many signs.
Already I’m learning patience, how to accept help, releasing the need to do everything myself.
It’s stopped me in my tracks to break me into flexibility and deeper presence.
Closer to God, source, all.
When I asked for a breakthrough or to be broken beautiful it wasn’t really this I expected but somehow I’m finding the greatest beauty, compassion, tears, joy in a painful situation.
Grateful for life.
God’s got a plan.
Even in suffering you can somehow assist one another without trying too, connections and differences, truly hearing each other, holding space, prayer.
God’s given me something I never expected, in a place I never thought it would be brought to life.

Written by Helen Rebecca Hart.

Art, Connection, God, life, love, Messages, musings, philosophy, poet, Poetry, presence, realisation, Source

COMING TOGETHER, COMING APART.

COMING TOGETHER, COMING APART.

Do you truly accept me as all I am in each ever changing moment.
Can you flow with the fields of grace as the tides rise.
Can you sit back and allow rather than fix, flea or fault find.
Can you help me, truly help me by helping yourself.
Can you accept all of me without judging the parts that seem more appealing.
Can my perceived flaws become a home to your sweet, compassionate smile.
Can you work with me and flow like a river and maybe be still as ice in winter, eye to eye, gazing into our souls as one breath to one eye.
Can you accept that I want all of you, not just certain parts.
Can you accept that I’ve met your darkness with an open heart.
Can you accept that I will never be perfect and cannot fullfill your insatiable needs.
I shall not feed them either though as love needs breath and your needs within your heed.
Can we work together apart.
Can we create something new.
For what I’ve seen of love in movies, is not love but an adornment in which this love is lost.
I truly, deeply, feel and see all of you.
It will never come at a cost.
For I found eye when I was lost.

Written by Helen Rebecca Hart.

change, Christ, Community, God, life, love, Mystic, poet, Poetry, purpose, Source

STILL TO SEA SEE.

STILL TO SEA SEE.

In this moment I realise we’re free.
Free from yesterday.
Free from tomorrow.
Free from being more, doing more, having more.
Free from attaching to something external to bring about false hope, light and happiness.
Free from denial.
Free from chains.
Free from the prison of the mind.
If not free there.
Free now.
Breathe.
Cool inner.
Hot outer.
Space inbetween.
Breathe.
Now.
Here.
Now.
Here.
There.
Becomes.
Now.
Here.

Written by Helen Rebecca Hart.

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.

love, Messages, One, parenting, poet, Poetry, presence, purpose

PINK FLOWS.

PINK FLOWS.

Love.
True love.
It is delicate yet very present in it’s presence.
It cannot be owned, possessed or taken.
It is full, filled and fully felt.
Without sex in sight.
It is not an object of beauty.
It is not brought on by the eye.
Love just is.
Love is an ever floating pink mist that cradles you without taking you.
Love is a heart opening full flowing force.
Minus force.
It holds no control.
Nobody owns love.
It has no status.
It is not dependant upon sexual desire.
That’s lust.
Many man have confused lust for love.
Love isn’t an erecting force.
It is soft, delicate yet is full bodied in it’s taste.
Love doesn’t speak with a tongue.
It has no need to be told.
For if you are telling of love.
It’s not that.
Love just is.
A baby an image of love.
An embodiment of love.
Not an object but pure life.
A Mother or Fathers love does not bind nor attach.
It guides, it allows, it accepts.
It’s felt with no hands steering a wheel in sight.
It’s not an adornment but an embodiment.
A pink mist from the inner core.
It envelops the one.
It’s in it’s words, breath, touch.
All without a plan.
It touches all of those around who feel.
It brags not of what it has done.
An inner outer blanket.
A warm supportive hand.
A vision, no eye.
It isn’t blinding.
That which binds.
That again not love.
Love doesn’t ask for a thing nor does it give with intention.
It isn’t taken or given in greed or lack.
It does not come with a photo or image.
Yet desire does.
Again not love.
Love a state of presence.
You’ll feel it when you know.
It cannot be held in permanence.
A force of vibration.
A pink caressing mist that softly holds.
Yet fully flows.
Love a heart filled presence.
No words truly explain.
True loves vibration.
No claimant in sight.

Written by Helen Rebecca Hart.