Ashley Barnes

Awaken. Heal. Inspire.

  • Home
  • About
  • Books
  • Work With Me
  • Poetic Healing
  • Connect

Daily Bliss – November 5

Daily Bliss

This is real 

This is home 

As she sinks into her body 

This is earth 

Inside her bones 

And flowers 

In her soul 

Share This Post:
Posted On: November 5, 2020

Daily Bliss – March 7

Daily Bliss

The Angels remind us that like the trees and flowers, we open, we close, we raise our faces to the sun and drink in its emboldened warmth for sustenance when days are cold and hearts are warm with living.

Share This Post:
Posted On: March 7, 2019

Daily Bliss – January 19

Daily Bliss

The Angels remind us that the frantic pace of life that seems to demand our participation is only an illusion, created by those who want more at any expense but can’t do it on their own. It’s always a choice to participate….or not. And what fragrant flowers might emerge if we step out and slow down!

Share This Post:
Posted On: January 19, 2018

Daily Bliss – May 5

Daily Bliss


The Angels remind us that a little rain is going to fall, and a lot of rain is going to fall, and big storms will come.  And then the flowers will grow, and we’ll temporarily forget how we got there, we’ll just enjoy the beauty.  Every day can be like this, if we just enjoy the beauty.

Share This Post:
Posted On: May 5, 2017

Nana with Rose Petal Tears

Musings, Poetic Healing

2014-04-09 07.42.25

Rose petals, like teardrops,
fall softly to my kitchen counter,
surround the vase where the wilted flowers
droop their heads in reverence to the
stooping, plucking, pruning

of Nana tending to her roses
crouching in her gardening shorts,
as I play in the field behind her house,
searching for rabbits’ nests and pulling out
my dollhouse to set up in the quiet patio shade,

of Nana sweet and fragrant as the roses
that she tended, bare legs exposed, a rebel
of a time when women wore only skirts and hosiery,
bustling about in her slippers and shorts,
cultivating an escape from everyday life

of Nana’s hair, soft between my fingertips,
like rose petals, as she lies in bed, life gradually
slipping through grasping hands, ice chips, greeting
cards, and tear-soaked tissues encircling roses
on the bedside table

of my Nana who never cried, at least not that I
can remember, but if she had, I know her tears would be
rose petals, cascading between dreams and
backyard memories, sweetly-scented and multi-hued,
formed together into one final bloom

©SpiritLed 2014

Share This Post:
Posted On: April 15, 2014

© 2021 The Spirit Led Life · Designed + Created by Jelly Design Studio.