The golden leaves fall,
fearing not the decay of
a coming winter.
Death is essential
to the renewal of life –
All will spring again.
If each in nature
can feel this simple rhythm,
so can humans too.
Why do we resist?
Our fears overshadow the
truth of our being.
But the fall leaves know,
they show us that we too will
green the tree anew.
Susan L Hart 2023 | HartInspirations.com
The willow weeps,
the pine trees moan,
all Nature’s feeling it,
deep to the bone.
Humans out of sync,
not hearing their hearts,
the soul of the Earth’s
being torn apart.
“Technology’s call
mesmerized them all,
and why can’t they see,
their hate is a wall?”
The mountains watch,
their strength eons old,
the oceans too have
seen centuries unfold.
They will endure, but
will humans be here?
“It seems they don’t care,
they don’t hold us dear.”
The eleventh hour
draws swiftly nigh,
trees watch us, crying,
“Will this be goodbye?”
Susan L Hart 2023 | HartInspirations.com
There is you and there is society.
You see yourself as a contributor to your society. (That’s a good thing.)
But there are those who have a great deal of control in your society who see you only as a servant to their society.
There is a vast chasm between those two viewpoints, don’t you think?
Who has control over your destiny right now?
And if you don’t like the answer, how to change that?
Susan L Hart 2023 | HartInspirations.com
I’ve been toying for awhile now with the idea of adding some illustrations to my stories. This means I need to brush up on my drawing skills; I’ve been away from making art for quite some time.
I love wildlife, so this morning I just randomly picked a photo of a bird to work from. I’m not 100% happy with it, but as a quick first attempt, it’s not too bad. Yay! It’s like riding a bike.
I will post some more sketches as I practice. (Sorry for the quality of the photo – in future I’ll scan the work – this will get better.)
Susan L Hart 2023 | HartInspirations.com
Who am I? Genetics, environment, and experience, they have all helped to shape me. I was born into this life with a touch of auburn in my hair from Dad, and long piano playing fingers from Mom.
But father, why did you not give me the flaming locks that run in your Scottish family? Why just a whisper of red for me? I have a fire inside that rages, and a call to blaze a path in this world. My Maori friend calls me “Fire”. Perhaps it is so my flame is evident only to those with eyes that see deeper?
And mother, why was I born with your hands and no musical talent? It felt cruel. It was a source of frustration to me that I failed at piano lessons. Perhaps it was so I could learn to see in myself what is, rather than what is not?
One summer afternoon, the girl I was lay on her bed daydreaming. I left my body and up I rose until I floated among the stars, tethered to Earth by a slender silver thread. I felt infinity for the first time, and I realized that I was so much more than they were telling me.
I am the artist in France, learning to express my soul on canvas. In this present life, I recall those lessons easily. Painting is like breathing to me. That other self walks in Monet’s garden, and I yearn to again. A photo of the Seine in the fog makes my heart ache with longing. It is a happy life.
I am the Japanese geisha in love with a powerful man. He loves me, but we cannot be together. Even now, pink cherry blossoms in spring make my heart both sing and weep, all at the same time. The lesson? I love and I am loved. In the end, the love is all that is important.
Sometimes when I walk along the sidewalk, I recognize a piece of myself in a stranger’s eyes. How can I say what it is exactly? It is fleeting, but I see it, and I feel it.
When I pass a beggar on the street, I attach a blessing to the coin I give. In my mind I say, “I know you, and I feel your pain. I have been where you are. It is a lesson you are learning, and it will all be okay.”
There is so much of me flooding in from the world, sometimes I feel overwhelmed by it. So I wash the dishes or sweep the floor, ordinary tasks that ground me in the here and now.
But I can never deny to myself, or to the world, that which I know to be true: I am stardust. I am Infinite. I am part of it All.
Susan L Hart 2023 | HartInspirations.com
Susan L Hart / Author 