Sample pic. Hit text NaRa’s Klexy Colors to be sent to link for more. ☝️
When I’m not writing poems, I’m busy with my other artistic endeavors.
Happy to share. 🙂
There’s something in her eyes
Bilateral memories of
Her intentions are intelligible,
As you’re at the edge, blinded by
Her seductive rapport
To flip suddenly rapturously into the deep
With seahorses …. her fleeting motherhood qualities
An enigma to nature
She’s never the color red coming towards you
Always receding into, fathomless blue
Until you follow, to be,
Pulled down into, what seems to be, mermaid treachery
Don’t battle yourself
Compassion is not deception
Words and Art by: NaRa
The burning beacon of our blue mother star.
Her secret mantra like smoke rises in our wounded hearts; to cleanse all contempt and fears away.
She pulls us out of the deep sea’s sorrow and brings us back to shore.
She is the brazen warrior of radical acceptance towards transformative joyous love.
Her blue- violet blaze, is our guide and protector, for our spiritual arrival home.
These are photos of the progess and the finished shrine. This art piece was a real joy to make, and I’m inspired to do a Tara series now. It keeps me connected to what I would want to be one day. For we all can be like Tara/Bodhisattvas if our hearts are open to first self-compassion and then compassion for others that seek the path of self-surrender. Being comfortable in falling apart, to be held, and mended back into something beautiful.
Click on image below to be redirected to Nara’s Instagram page
His mind softly touches my,
Exuberant ladder of dreams.
He is wrapped in a blanket
Of my layered terra.
Like a destined sleepwalker
He came right through.
But with care,
For my scared
Velvety ivory dog.
He even brushes
My bronzy beauties.
He gathers all
My thought patterns around.
Even one of my owl friends
Joins the funeral circle.
That’s me, wrapped
Like an egyptian mummy,
How could I have died?
A woeful projection
Hears me and explains,
“Drown in a lake of cadmium red.”
He shakes me awake
“Just another nightmare.”, I say
“But you were laughing
“Oh my unconscious lost my life.”
But with a more serious tone,
“I was under my fate.”
Poem & Art: Naomi Ruth W. Photograph : Erwin Blumefeld