one woman's journey to wholeness…

Archive for the ‘prayer’ Category

Night Payers For 2018…

Night Prayers – Photo by Toni Roberts

Let us usher in 2018 in prayerful meditation for peace on earth and the unification of humanity.

Designate a spot in your home and /or office as Sacred Space. Purchase an original framed photography from Toni Robert’s Healing Altar Series and let it be a reminder to to you to take time daily to simply sit and listen within.

All that is worthwhile in life comes from the inside…the Soul-side...out…simply sit and listen

Toni Roberts’ Healing Altar Series:





Love…Light…Hope…Peace…Strength… Trust…Truth…Unity…

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Blazing Sunset Over The Wetlands and Long Island Sound – Photo by Toni Roberts


   my prayer for humanity


The Ultimate Prayer:


Photo by Toni Roberts Central Park, NYC

yes, please



and in


not mine

   Thank You

Before The Storm…

Photo by Toni Roberts

Photo by Toni Roberts

Toni Roberts’ Artwork and Photography May Be Viewed & Purchased at:

Another Realization Along This Path To Wholeness…

The Light Dawns; photo by Toni Roberts

The Light Dawns; photo by Toni Roberts

It is imperative that I remember:

   All of the negativity that I see in the outer world…

   Which so disturbs me…

Is simply a reflection of my own

   Internal Shit…


it would behoove me to begin

Clearing out immediately, consciously and conscientiously

   Before it all backs up

   And that will not be pretty

   And so…

As I continue on this Path

I remain ever mindful of that which the I Ching teaches:

You cannot fight corruption with corrupt motives

Injustice with self-serving interests

Or lies with hidden deception

Toni Roberts’ Artwork, Photography and Necklaces May Be Viewed And Purchased at:

A Morning Prayer…

Photo by Toni Roberts; Hutchinson River/Long Island Sound

Photo by Toni Roberts; Hutchinson River/Long Island Sound


As the fog lifts…

I open myself up in

Complete surrender to

The Nameless One

How would You best use me this day?

Guide me…lead me…place my feet upon the


Which The Messenger hath prepared

Before me

Grant me insight...faithwisdompatience and understanding

Direct my every step

Through this day

And all the days of my life

In and out of



Ode to Oya…

Blow, Wind, Blow

Clear the land

Sweep away the mental debris

Which clogs my mind

Clear away the poisonous thoughts

The lies and other man-made falsehoods

That fill my consciousness

And direct my actions

Free me, Oya!

Transform my being

That I may dance the dance of Prayer with You

Swaying to the Divine Rhythms of Life

Clear the way, Oya!

Make entrance within

So that I may receive

Our fiery Lover, Chango

Who comes in





The Battles Belong to God…

These earthly battles, indeed, belong to to God: that Holy Presence that has taken up residence in my third and fourth CHAKRAS

that Intelligence with which I communicate in these sacred moments

that mysterious Force that draws me here to this holy spot

above my beloved river

today swollen and


my river…

Mother God waging Battle

for the survival of Her children:

all the two and four-legged creatures

all those who crawl or grow

along the Body of Her



Rolling waters

hurried along by the wind…

not wise to tarry in danger

and there is much danger

all around…

it comes by air

by water

by sight and sound…

visions of madness upon the land…

humanity gone berserk

lost in the lunacy of

their own imaginings…

killer cruelty ruling the earth…

a million lives taken…

a noble mountain leveled…

all the same…

I watch from my perch

high above the rapidly rolling


listening to words of


that flow from That Which Has Taken Up Residence in my

heart and solar plexus…

and then I know…

all is just as it must be…

and so, I kick back

and I am at peace once more…

in Love

at-one with my world…

I can leave the battles to God…

Drumming in Marcus Garvey Park…

And yesterday…Saturday

after the gift of Friday with K. in Central Park

came the ecstasy of drumming in

Marcus Garvey Park

A Holy Circle of

modern-day santeros, babalawos, curanderas

women, men and children

who are called by

the Spirit of the Drum

Grandfather blessing my drum…

Gathering weekly to pay homage

to the Motherland: Africa

Lending body, mind and soul

as vehicles upon which the Orishas may ride…

Giving oneself up as intermediary

between the two worlds

vessels to be filled with the

Voice of Drum Spirit…

Holy Rhythms of Healing and Love

rippling out from the village of Harlem

in never ending circles…

through the city…

the nation…

the world…

“Altared” States Three…

I’m in my space…

in my groove…

how I love this “altared” time

this place

this space

with God…

this sacred time

this looking in

this listening

and watching…

this joy-filled


moment of surrender…

of total submission to

whatever IT is

that caused me



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