Most Commented Religion / Spirituality Poems (1,340)

Faith

Invisible Comprehendable

Believing Resting Trusting

Connects with a higher power

Faith

Consider Him
When the storm is raging high,
When the tempest rends the sky,
When my eyes with tears are dim,
Then, my soul, consider Him.

When my plans are in the dust,
When my dearest hopes are crushed,
When is passed each foolish whim,
Then, my soul, consider Him.

When with dearest friends I part,
When deep sorrow fills my heart,
When pain racks each weary limb,
Then, my soul, consider Him.

When I track my weary way,
When fresh trials come each day,
When my faith and hope are dim,
Then, my soul, consider Him.

Clouds or sunshine, dark or bright,
Evening shades or morning light,
When my cup flows o'er the brim,
Then, my soul, consider Him.

I am the Green Man, some know me as Jack,
My presence is here, my season is back!

I begin on the great dance, that time has not changed
It brings out all life, before me, Nature arrayed.

I call to the tall trees, arise from your slumbers
Bring forth your leaves,
Let your children be without number.

I call to the wild plants, the old plants, the healers
Spread forth on the green earth,
Send out fruit, flower and feeler.

I call to my creatures, of fin, hoof and wing.
Let your children be free, let all your hearts sing.

I play my wild music, the primeval beat,
It calls to us, moves us all,
echoes through bodies,frees our minds and our feet.

I continue my dancing, and I am joined more and more
Where I pass, Nature answers-
Life sprouts where my feet fall.

As the growing continues, Spring lives now do join,
Their children will follow, will keep the earth,
Share the earth
Becoming one with each other.

When the fruits grow and ripen, my season will end,
Green life will die back, lie dormant-
Waiting for me and the signal I send.

I am the Green Man- ever brand new and old.
My arrival is Springtime, Autumn my end: I will hold
My breath, till the wheel turns, and I dance once again,
For I am the Green Man, and my life will not end.

Copyright Kathryn Cresswell 2001.

Published in the USA in 2004.

Prior to this universe, is the universe of love...
look at all the uproar scene and great crowd, for the deliberation and disturbance of that love...

to levitate above the hate
and see the canon's fodder
balancing the light and weight
knowing what things most matter

it's an inner war ain't it?
a mortal combat of our mind
twixt devilish and the sainted
between insanity and the refined

sword in hand with olive branch
we know the coin's sides and edge
give our humanity half a chance
face the view at the cliffs ledge

it's about ambiguity...i think
the arc of the apex at the top
'bout wide plains to the brink
of souls gravitous descent we drop

we're always tugging on the rope
pulling the other muddy part of us
Sisyphus struggles with rock on slope
pushing uphill trying not to digress

to balance the struggle every day
too far to dark or to the light
and not tip the symmetry and sway
balancing wrongs and what's left

© agoodguy2have 2010-04-22

If we could recreate and start again, the creation
of man,, what then?,,, so that we were God,
could we produce a better plan?

And IF we were God and this was now, would we
do better?, would we know how?
Would we call a meeting and define our plan,
to produce this good and better man?

Would we open the floor for debate, on the
best way to recreate?
We could give him freewill to play his part,
instill emotions for a feeling heart,

And we'd understand if he went astray, we'd
help him along througout his day,
He'd be our SPECIAL creation, created by
us in our perfect nation,

And at the end when he was done, we'd
take him home cause he'd be our SON,

Yes, that's what we could do, and don't
you see,,,he'd be soo much better, created
by you and me.

WOULDN'T HE?

So pale
Devistation washes as water
Over flesh

The instinct
Is to turn away
And escape the impressions

At best
The only illusion
Is fate

Does she not understand
The space the world has provided
Distinctly she curls up her hands
Gives wings to dark horizens

I am
Irrepressively changed
As I watch her
And am secretly ashamed

There
In the caverns of my thoughtlessness
I am made aware

So fragile
She shatters like china
Tossed upon sand

The moments are
racked with contusions
Retreat is impossible

At best
This is not much better
Than death

Does she see the confusion
With grim eyes like heartbeats in grey
As she stands in her doorway
Speaking with images and clay

I am
Unbelievably horrified
As she loses her mind
I see myself in her eyes

And we fall
The darkness of senselessness
As a mirage

Shake it off
But we cannot breathe emptiness
Like it or not

She is there
Inside this existance
Like me

Inexorably petrified
Pretending to reason
She needs faith to believe

Just like me...

Much of life is filled with tasks as we begin each day,

But much of life is wonderful if we can think that way.



Let us look at all the people from every walk of life,

They are no different in their stress and strife.



Wouldn't it be great to embrace each human life,

Instead of waging war and slice them with a knife.



Let us look at others as we would want them to stop and see,

That we as people are human and happy to be free.



So as you wake each and every day just smile at someone new,

Make them feel wanted they'll smile right back at you.



There are no guarantees and life may not be fair,

But we must keep our faith and keep our Lord so very near.



Next time you see someone in need of help or care,

Don't just turn away in hopelessness or fear.



Humility is simple just keep it in your heart,

Then you 'll realize you had it from the start.

He noticed me when I accompanied my daughter to learn to sing in the Sunday school.
He saw me standing with full support for my daughter.
He read my mind about the hope for the future of my daughter.
He felt a vibration that harbored my heart’s hope of my daughter’s spiritual life.
He touched my worries as a mother.
He looked at me with a lot of questions and little hope.
He photographed me and my daughter repeatedly in the churchyard.
He spoke with words of stern and simple.
He gives warmth to the children.
He offered friendship.
He told me his dream was beginning to become a journalist.
He listened to my story about my initial goal is to become a nun.
He gave me a clear picture of monastic life.
He sent me letters that live in my mind when he had moved the task.
He was the first monk who was very close in my life.
In all his words sometimes save something. As a friendship bound by a deep longing. He seemed to fill his mind with the problems of my everyday's life. But he remained there, in the monastery, the life that has he chose.But his gander stay in my mind, gave a special meaning. Friendship in the holy longing. In the monastery, there is a longing that fill him everyday.

Life

Life is bitter
Life is sweet
Life seems wrong, but life is right
we look, but cant see
we touch, but cannot feel
we fall, but we are upright
we frown, in our happiness
we look down, but see up....
we stumble, while walking straight
we do bad, but good overtakes us
we do good, but still loose...
we run, but cannot hide
we hide, and we are found
we push, tho we are shoved..
when we wont look, then we see...
when we do look, we never find it.
when we are Low, Then we are High
life is never as it seems

when one talks, nobody listens
when we stay quiet, their all ears...
when we sweat, then we are cool
when we are cold, we feel warmth
when we die, we still have life
when we live, we die....
when we suffer, then we get stronger
when we are strong, we grow weak
when it looks so hard, it comes so easy
when we want peace, we find war
when we want war, we find peace
The harder we fall, the stronger we get
In God We trust!