Striving to Express Spiritual Perception

Being a poet is about perception. My senses trigger thoughts and feelings. I feel the strongest desire to write when I have just had what I call a spiritual experience. I believe I am a poet because I have these experiences and desire to share them, not because I love to write. Living in this world is what inspires me. Being a poet is about being alive, observing and experiencing the world around me.

Revelation While Mowing the Lawn

I don't believe in God anymore
I know Him.
What a wonderful feeling,
To realize His presence
Within my everyday life.
I do not need to seek Him.
He is already here.
I sense His presence,
Within the light that He shares.

I will spend the rest of my days
Striving to express
What I see and feel
When I am touched by His hand.
In music,
In words,
In a dance.

I don't need faith anymore.
I know He is real.
I have always known,
What I have given religion
A time to kill.

We are one now
Side by side
Glimpse by glimpse
I know now I belong to Him
And His words are truth
Written in my heart
He is my love
My Hope
My dream
My inspiration.

Sharla Leisinger
July 17th 2010

My Dark Side

I have a dark side.
I swear that I do.
Sometimes it tries to take over,
I just bow to it gracefully
And say,

"Hello, how are you?
I know you've been here before
And you will visit again.
I know you so well.
I call you my friend.

You can hang around.
I know you will,
Only around the edges
Just enough to keep things real."

Do Not Look Back!

Today I was praying and asking for supernatural intervention in my life. I guess I have been feeling the darkness closing in a bit since I lost Tucker. I am doing much better counteracting the darkness with light, because I did rescue two beautiful creatures from the animal shelter to help fill the void that Tucker left. This act did help "grey" things up a bit. Anyway, as I was praying, I got a very clear mantra "Don't look Back". I intuitively felt God's spirit saying, "If I part the waters, you must pass through and Do not look back". I realized that there have been many times in my life when I received a miracle, but it slipped away because I would not let go of the past. So this may take some practice, but I am really excited to see what happens.

My Cat Died

I would like to say that I cried,
But it rymes to well with died,
And it really does not express
How I really feel.
Isn't that the reason I am here?
Writing this in the first place?

I know he is fine
And so am I.
To truly live,
Everything must die.
It is Okay.
He came and he went,
And he shared and he helped
Me get through a tough time.
(I will have to finish later
not because I am sad, but
because the phone won't stop ringing)

The Lady Bug and Green Tea

I lay on my side in the daybed, drinking a cup of green tea, with my grandmothers quilt covering me and a twenty pound, longhair, grey tabby laying at my feet. His name was Lucky and he was my protector. I was finally finished with the radiation treatments and it was time to reflect, on life I suppose. I sat the cup of tea down on the table next to the bed and a ladybug found her way to its edge. I began watching her make her way around the edge of my tea cup. She just kept going around and around. I felt sympathy for her because I have been there myself. Not on the edge of a tea cup, but going around in circles just the same. She could not see very far and I am sure the cup seemed huge and there was no end to it. There were no corners to turn, no left, no right, no up or down. I lay there, just watching her, wondering how many times she would keep traveling around the edge. Then in one moment she flew away, off to another exploration I suppose. I was so excited for her and for me, because I knew that I was spreading my wings and flying off to begin a new exploration also. Thank you little ladybug where ever you are for inspiring me to let go of my endless journey and fly away to a new land.

Finding My Own Voice

Funny title. Do I have my own voice? If I don't, then whose voice do I have, or do I have a voice at all? Scary thought. Maybe that is why I stopped writing. I lost my voice. What I do have is a steady droning deep down in the pit of my stomach that just won't go away. A interesting point is that when I stopped writing, I stopped talking. I have never been much of a talker. My brain just doesn't work that way. My thoughts get all tied up with my tongue. I was born the youngest of a family of five children and I was the only girl. While growing up, no one around me thought I had anyhing interesting to say, so I didn't talk much. I did sit around and daydream quite a bit. My Mother was grateful because I was so quiet. I think all of those hours of daydreaming have finally caught up with me. I have got to do something with all of these dreams in my head. My problem is that I don't know where to begin and shouldn't I be doing something more useful like working a third job, tending a garden or taking in stray animals. I have got to work this out. I hope I can eventually get my voice back or atleast be able to write it, read it and recognize it as my own.

A Different Perspective

Some days I drive madly down the winding country road from my house to town. In the early morning there are sleepy birds who tend to fly low and when I am frantic, I almost hit a few, especially if I am driving fast. Lately I have been soaking in the spring and taking my time. Yesterday I was driving down a country road by the lake on my way to a painting job and I looked out my side window. There was a small bird gliding along side of my truck. We were going the same speed and then it flew gracefully across the front of my truck and crossed to the other side. I watched its journey from beginning to end and there was no near death experience, only graceful sychronicity with a fellow creature. I thought to myself, wow, what a different perspective. If I get in to much of a hurry, look at what I miss, the best part of the journey.

Within Myself

This is where
The big things start,
A quiet room,
Wrapped within a thought.

In this place,
The darkness ends.
I see myself,
And my life begins.

This is where
The magic lives.
This is where I am.
A sacred light
Has led me here.
This is where I stand.

This is the place.
No where else.
I have found life's strength
Within myself.

Written by S.M. Leisinger

Simple Life

I live a simple life. I like it that way. I enjoy getting up in the morning and watching the sun rise. I was diagnosed with Hodgekin's Lymphoma 10 years ago and the first thing I did on the drive home after I was told the news was pray to God that I could live because I would miss the sun rise. I am not sure if they have sun rises on the other side of existance, but sun rises are all I know. Something inside of me changed significantly on that day and I have not seen the world the same way since. On my 5 year check-up my oncologist told me I was cured. He also told me that when I die it will be because of something else besides cancer. I am very grateful. I have returned to innocence and plan on living the rest of my life watching the sun rise and letting the beauty of this world shine through the shadows of pain and suffering.

All I Want To Do

All I want to do is love
And share;
All I want to do is create,
build and care;
All I want to do is right
And strong;
All I want is freedom
And a gentle song.

All I want to do is live
And grow;
All I want to do is feel
Learn and know;
All I want to do is run
And dance;
All I want to do is breathe
And give life a chance.

I want to feel the rain on my face,
The air's warm embrace,
The tree's towering control
And the rustle of my soul.

Written by S.M. Leisinger (of course)

Rainy Day

I guess I could say that it is a dark and dismal day, a day without sunshine but since it is actually raining and isn't too dark or dismal, "Rainy Day" will do.

I do not know who I might be writing this for, myself I guess. There is a place deep inside of me that seems to say otherwise and I am listening. That is why I am here blogging. I am basically a very shy person and not used to talking about myself, so creating a journal that literally anyone can read is just a bit scary and unusual for me. Growing up with four older brothers has encouraged me to feel basically invisible most of my life and I believe that I have gotten used to it. I did struggle with the desire to try something fancy or impressive. I have decided against it. I have chosen to simply move my fingers on the keyboard and see what comes out.

It has been a wonderful day
In a simple sort of way.
I watched dust turn into clay.

I watched my cat dodge raindrops as he made his way across the yard. He slid sideways in an attempt to make it underneath my truck. He succeeded. About a hour later I opened the front door, and he bolted out from under the truck picking up speed almost instantaneously up to approximately 90 miles an hour. He made it through the front door. I had my towel ready. I wrapped him up and dried him off. He snuggle with me a little. Life just doesn't get any better.

I Feel Like Frodo Today

I feel like Frodo today.
I have fought the battles.
I have been to the mountain.
I have defeated evil,
And am left with the scars.
Now all I want to do...
Is be with the elves,
Be intoxicated with their spirit,
knowledge and truth,
And live the rest of my life in peace.

Playing My Fiddle

I played my fiddle today.
I wished I could have played all day,
But my arms got tired
And I had to put it away.

I played my fiddle today.
While a soft breeze blew
And the yellow grass turned green.
There was a moment or two
When the bow touched the string
That I knew
Music is in everything.

I played my fiddle today.
Or maybe it played for me.
Sometimes it is hard to see
Where the music begins
And my spirit ends.

I played my fiddle today.
Some nice Irish tunes.
I still faulter and fumble
And make mistakes
But there are moments
When the magic takes
I hope someday
I can play for a room,
and if I do
They will feel it too.

The Path I See

It seems my life is all about survival now. Guarding myself against intense emotions so that I can stay focused and conserve my energy. I think it must be time for me to truly persue my intuitive sense of self and walk in the path I see and not the path I wish it could be.

Where the Road Takes Me

Well, this is my first and maybe my only post. I am not sure. It depends on where the road takes me. I have no expectations. I believe that is the best way to begin writing, with no expectations.