Across the Sea Along the Shore
Across the sea, along the shore,
In numbers more and ever more,
From lonely hut and busy town,
The valley through, the mountain down,
What was it ye went out to see,
Ye silly folk Galilee?
The reed that in the wind doth shake?
The weed that washes in the lake?
The reeds that waver, the weeds that float?
A young man preaching in a boat.
What was it ye went out to hear
By sea and land from far and near?
A teacher? Rather seek the feet
Of those who sit in Moses' seat.
Go humbly seek, and bow to them,
Far off in great Jerusalem.
From them that in her courts ye saw,
Her perfect doctors of the law,
What is it came ye here to note?
A young man preaching in a boat.
A prophet! Boys and women weak!
Declare, or cease to rave;
Whence is it he hath learned to speak?
Say, who his doctrine gave?
A prophet? Prophet wherefore he
Of all in Israel tribes?
He teacheth with authority,
And not as do the Scribes.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Oh prophet!
Oh prophet! Oh prophet! get up and flee
The dormant city
Is vicious, merciless without joviality or glee
Oh prophet! Oh prophet get up and run
The dreadful city before the rising sun
The gentle night welcomes with cover and calm
Oh prophet! oh prophet get up and haste your retreat
The night city drums thunder and beat
A place so foul, no man is liberated or free in solitary streets
Oh prophet! oh prophet get up and hide
This city is filled with bigotry and shameful pride
The night is pure with divinity and delight
Oh Prophet! oh Prophet wake up and rise
Large treasure rapture city eyes
Their sins are blotted in shape and size
Oh prophet! oh prophet take a warning heed
Tomorrow God's wrath will over the city take lead
And with fury and fire burns her towers and her peaks
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The Prophet
In his dream an old man appeared.
“Good king, I have news”
“Tomorrow a stranger will come.
I sent for him. He’s a prophet you can trust.
Listen to him.”
As dawn rose, the king was sitting in the
watchtower on the roof.
He saw someone coming.
He ran to meet this guest.
Their souls knit together,
without stitch or seam.
The king opened his arms and
held the prophet close to him.
He led him to the head table.
They dined.
“At last I have found what only
patience can bring. This one whose
face answers any question and who
simply by looking can loosen the
knot of intellectual discussion.”
The king touched the prophet’s arm,
and said “Speak to me of Jerusalem”
The prophet smiled…
(Inspired by the brilliance of Rumi)
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Such A Great Salvation
After 400 years in Egypt, God did not forget His promise to Abraham,
And He sent Moses back to lead Israel into the Blessed Promised Land.
God's awesome power through His miracles was apparent from the start,
And for the sake of His people, God began to harden Pharaoh's heart.
From bondage in the land of Egypt, God delivered His entire nation,
But never did they stop complaining, to see God's arm of Salvation.
With Pharaoh's army in the sea, God's Salvation to the eye was clear,
But on the other side in safety, hearts were still gripped with fear.
When the spies went into the land their eyes of flesh could not see,
That this was the land God promised to Abraham through all Eternity.
And because their father Abraham did not display his faith like this,
When he heard God, he believed and was credited with righteousness.
Unbelief was the cause of the Israelites wandering in the wilderness,
For God used it to purge the next generation of such unrighteousness.
However, Joshua and Caleb believed God and Moses just like Abraham,
So God used these two men to lead all Israel into the Promised Land.
And Moses said a Prophet like himself would be raised up in the end,
The Prophet was Jesus Christ whether you believe it or not my friend.
The Church can look back on the fulfillment of this great revelation,
So how, my friend, can you turn your back on such a great Salvation?
(Copyright © 02/2002)
A Floating Boat Needs a Rudder
You seek direction!
That's what you claim to need.
And you want to stay clear...
Of a negativity that teases and schemes.
And you say to me,
You've got to float your own boat.
But fear prevents you,
To listen to advice you toss away...
Before anywhere you go.
You're afraid to row,
A boat that stays on shore!
And advice you're given...
Your are quick to ignore.
Any boat that you'll use will need a rudder.
That boat you use will need a rudder.
Any boat you will use will need a rudder,
From here to there...
Or wherever your druthers.
That boat you're using needs a rudder.
That boat you're using needs a rudder.
That boat you're using needs a rudder...
From here to there...
Or wherever your druthers.
You seek direction!
That's what you claim to need.
And you want to stay clear...
Of a negativity that teases and schemes.
And you say to me,
You've got to float your own boat.
But fear prevents you,
To listen to advice you toss away...
Before anywhere you go.
And you don't want to hear...
A floating boat needs a rudder!
Not from me,
Or anyone other.
No you don't want to hear...
A floating boat needs a rudder!
Not from me,
Or anyone other.
That that that boat,
That you're using needs a rudder.
One day you'll see...
A floating boat needs a rudder!
One day you'll find it true...
And agree with me.
That that that boat,
That you're using needs a rudder.
That that that boat,
That you're using needs a rudder.
One day you'll see...
A floating boat needs a rudder!
One day you'll find it true...
And agree with me.
No matter what druthers suffered...
One day you'll agree.
A floating boat needs a rudder...
To get to your destiny!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Maria Prophetissa
An Alchemist and Prophet
Sister of the Prophet Moses
Merged practical, mystical,
Through dreams, visions
“Death brings resurrection,
Followed by new life”
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song On The End Of The World
On the day the world ends
A bee circles a clover,
A fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea,
By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
And the snake is gold-skinned as it should always be.
On the day the world ends
Women walk through the fields under their umbrellas,
A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,
The voice of a violin lasts in the air
And leads into a starry night.
And those who expected lightning and thunder
Are disappointed.
And those who expected signs and archangels’ trumps
Do not believe it is happening now.
As long as the sun and the moon are above,
As long as the bumblebee visits a rose,
As long as rosy infants are born
No one believes it is happening now.
Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet
Yet is not a prophet, for he’s much too busy,
Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
There will be no other end of the world,
There will be no other end of the world.
poem by Czeslaw Milosz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song on The End of The World
On the day the world ends
A bee circles a clover,
A Fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea,
By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
And the snake is gold-skinned as it it should always be.
On the day the world ends
Women walk through fields under their umbrellas
A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,
The voice of a violin lasts in the air
And leads into a starry night.
And those who expected lightning and thunder
Are disappointed.
And those who expected signs and archangels' trumps
Do not believe it is happening now.
As long as the sun and the moon are above,
As long as the bumblebee visits a rose
As long as rosy infants are born
No one believes it is happening now.
Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet,
Yet is not a prophet, for he's much too busy,
Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
No other end of the world there will be,
No other end of the world there will be.
poem by Czeslaw Milosz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Kahlil Gibran in The Prophet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Speak With Kindness (Or Do Not Speak At All)
speak with kindness,
or do not speak at all.
speak not of judgement,
you are not the judge.
speak not of salvation,
let your living be your scriptures.
speak not of scriptures,
let your actions be your holy book.
speak not as apostle or teacher,
speak as a human being.
speak not of god,
then god will speak through you!
speak not as a man,
for you are woman too.
speak not with hateful malice,
for love does not work that way.
speak not as a prophet or seer,
speak as compassion made flesh.
speak not of morality,
speak of connection.
speak not of authority,
the tree and the leaf have just as much.
speak not of holiness,
for all that lives be holy.
speak with kindness...
or do not speak at all!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mumbo Jumbo
They came from the land of Jumbo,
Crossed the sea in their little boats,
Carried their wives and children here
In anything that would float,
They wanted the sort of freedoms we
Had always had for our own,
Would we be able to squeeze them in
And welcome them into our home?
They brought all their bags and baggage,
A thousand years of despair,
When life had been such a hardship
In the jungles of - 'Out there! '
We offered the hand of friendship,
They took it, and came right in,
Along with their prophet Mumbo
Who they carried right under their skin!
They settled in little pockets,
They kept themselves to their own,
Objected to learning the language that
Was spoken in their new home,
The women were covered from head to foot
And walked three feet behind,
Freedom for them was just a word -
They could search, but couldn't find!
They brought their own witch doctors
And scorned the likes of ours,
They told them we were an evil race
With our wealth, beliefs and powers,
They prayed to the prophet Mumbo
Said his word should be the law,
Ignored the law of the nation that
Had welcomed them to its shore.
They hated our celebrations,
And tried to get us to stop,
And we, like the village idiots
Accepted the culture shock,
We tried so hard to please them,
That we lost what once we had,
The freedom to criticize them
Or their customs, good or bad.
Our laws have turned against us,
We tread on tippy-toe,
We might not like how it's going
But we wouldn't want them to know.
The tension here is building
As our freedoms run like sand,
In this land of Mumbo Jumbo
We may have to make a stand!
8 January 2010
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prophet
Oh Prophet Muhammed
You are the dear one to me
There was always faith in you
And you made the people see
What an honest man you are
And you’ll always be the one
What a great heart you have
That shines like the sun
They have hurt you
And given you names
But as clearly as we all know
That these are terrible shames
They’ve even drawn pictures
And put a fake man
They’ve even written about you
As much as they possibly can
But who will believe in all of this
And who will claim that it is right
With gods grateful and powerful will
He’ll destroy all of their sight
Oh prophet we believe in you
And followed you along
Because your heart and your words
Will always stay where they belong
We love you oh dear prophet
While the birds flew
And after we recite your name
We say… Peace Be Upon You.
poem by Marria Attar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Paper-boat just on the Sea!
A paper-boat, I tend to be!
The sea of life is too stormy;
Afraid I am, it could sink me,
Before I can reach land’s safety!
But if He wants, the Almighty,
Could work miracles still for me;
And guide the boat to shore safely,
And keep me dry eternally!
A paper-boat just on the sea!
How can it float for long freely?
And when the sea becomes angry,
Can it escape its cruelty?
But all the same, I move slowly;
Nothing on earth can deter me;
Unless something so cowardly,
Drenches the boat mercilessly.
A paper-boat just on the sea!
I know I must make it surely;
And when I reach the shore, may be,
I will feel immensely happy!
A paper-boat just on life’s sea!
Who else would want to be like me?
God is my guide and my safety;
In Him, I have strong faith truly!
A paper-boat just on the sea!
A paper-boat, I tend to be;
A paper-boat, I want to be-
A paper-boat just on life’s sea!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-26-2000
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God’s Reflection
God sees His own reflection
As if on the water
Prophet Mohammad the mercy of God
Is the best reflection of God’s character!
Prophet Mary the best girl of the world
Is the best reflection of God’s beauty and purity!
Prophet Jesus the soul of our Lord
Is the best reflection of God’s peace!
The Holy Koran the difference maker
Between the good and the evil
Is the best reflection of God’s favor!
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who May Open Sealed Books?
Who can know
understand
the vast weight
of history
prophecy
stretching back
into remote
epochs of time?
Who can know
understand
interpret
implications
sealed into
God’s holy
word sealed
unto end time?
None can
understand
what is sealed
until God
gives authority
enlightenment
at God’s
appointed time.
No man no
prophet
has authority
until God
gives prophet
authority
enlightenment
at appointed time.
No man no
Angel of God
has authority
to open any
sealed books
to know any
decisions of God
until appointed.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Prophets at Home
Prophets have honour all over the Earth,
Except in the village where they were born,
Where such as knew them boys from birth
Nature-ally hold 'em in scorn.
When Prophets are naughty and young and vain,
They make a won'erful grievance of it;
(You can see by their writings how they complain),
But 0, 'tis won'erful good for the Prophet!
There's nothing Nineveh Town can give
(Nor being swallowed by whales between),
Makes up for the place where a man's folk live,
Which don't care nothing what he has been.
He might ha' been that, or he might ha' been this,
But they love and they hate him for what he is.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Lines to one who wished to read a poem I had written
Nay, read it not, thou wouldst not know
What lives within my heart,
For from that fount it does not flow;
'Tis but the voice of Art.
I could not bid my proud heart speak,
Before the idle throng;
Rather in silence would it break
With its full tide of Song.
Yes, rather would it break, than bare,
To cold and careless eyes,
The hallowed dreams that linger there,
The tears and agonies.
My lyre is skillful to repress
Each deep, impassioned tone;
Its gushing springs of tenderness
Would flow for one alone.
The rock, that to the parching sand
Would yield no dewy drop,
Struck by the pilgrim prophet's want,
Gave all its treasure up.
My heart then, is my only lyre;
The prophet hath not spoken,
Nor kindled its celestial fire;
So, let its chords be broken.
I would not thou shouldst hear those lays,
Though harsh they might not be;
Though thou, perchance, might'st hear and praise,
They would not speak of me.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Prophet, Priest And King
An Angel came to shepherds at night with Good News in which to bring,
A Savior’s been born to you today, who is a Prophet, Priest and King.
The shepherds filled with great joy praised The Lord from the start,
Mary hearing them praise her boy, pondered these things in her heart.
Visiting the Temple at age twelve Christ spoke with much insistence,
And speaking to Mary would tell her He’s about His Father’s business.
For Christ was not just another man but He is Almighty God Incarnate,
He was sent into The Holy Land and revealed as God’s final Prophet.
He was spoken of by Moses as the prophet like him, who would come,
And this Prophet knows all about us for He is God’s One and Only Son.
Many men were prophets in the past and used by God as He had willed,
And Jesus, my friend, was the last, as prophecy in Him was fulfilled.
The Old Testament economy of then since that time, friend has ceased,
And Jesus is now The Way for all men, from the greatest to the least.
No longer one ordained by men, Christ is our Heavenly Eternal Priest,
He is the final Priest my friend, to bring all men God’s Eternal peace.
The Jews mocked Jesus as a king, but that is exactly what Christ is,
And He’s coming back as Eternal King, with all those He knows as His.
He is the final revelation from God no matter what this world thinks,
And He’s coming with an iron rod to reign as Lord and King of Kings.
Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Matthew (Chapter 21)
At Bethphage on Mount of Olives,
Then, Jesus sent two disciples,
Into the village opposite,
To find a tethered ass and colt,
And bring them to Him, for His use.
If anyone should ask them then,
Reply, ‘Master has need for them.
He will return them soon after.’
This happened so that what was told
Through prophet might be fulfilled thus:
‘Say to daughter Zion, behold,
Your king comes meek, upon an ass,
And on a colt, beast of burden.’
His disciples did as He told.
They brought the ass and colt and laid,
Their cloaks upon them and He rode.
The large crowd spread their cloaks en route,
While others strew cut branches green,
En way to town Jerusalem.
They walked ahead of Him saying,
‘The Son of David, Hosanna,
Blessed‘s He who comes in the Lord’s name;
Hosanna in the Highest.’
On entering Jerusalem,
The whole city began to ask,
‘Who is this who shakes the town? ’
The crowds replied, ‘Prophet Jesus,
From Nazareth in Galilee! ’
Jesus went into the temple,
And drove out those who bought and sold;
He overturned their tables, seats,
Of money-changers, dove-sellers.
He said unto them, ’ ’tis written,
My house shall be for just prayer;
You shall not make it den of thieves! ’
He cured the blind and lame who came,
To Him, to the temple area.
On seeing Jesus do wonders,
And hearing children cry aloud,
‘Hosanna, Son of David king! ’
The scribes and chief priests turned angry!
They asked, ‘Do you hear what they say? ’
And Jesus said, ‘Yes, haven’t you read:
‘Out of the mouths of infants, kids,
You have brought forth praise unto God! ’
Then Jesus went to Bethany,
And there, He spent the night that day!
And being hungry, when dawn came,
He saw a fig-tree by the road;
But when He went over to it,
He found just leaves and not a fruit!
The angered Lord, then cursed the tree,
‘May you never fruit forth again! ’
The tree withered immediately.
This astonished His disciples;
They asked him what He had just done?
Then Jesus said, ‘Amen to you,
If you have faith and don’t waver,
You can do things similarly;
And if you tell the mountain, ‘Be
Lifted and thrown into the sea,
It shall be done too, instantly! ’
‘Whatev’r you pray along with faith,
You will receive, ‘the Lord, saith.
When He approached the temple place,
The chief priests, elders asked Him then,
‘By what authority, you do?
And who gave you authority? ’
Then Jesus told them, ‘I’ll ask you
One question and if you answer,
I will tell you what you ask of me.’
‘Tell where was John’s baptism from,
Was it of earth or from heaven? ’
They discussed ’mongst themselves and said,
‘If we reply, from heaven, then
He’ll ask, ‘why don’t you believe him? ’
‘If of human origin, then,
We fear the crowd for they regard
The Baptist John as a prophet! ’
So, they told Jesus, ‘We don’t know! ’
He replied, ‘Neither shall I tell,
Who empowers me to do these things.’
Then Jesus asked their opinion:
A man with two sons, said to first,
‘Go, work in the vineyard today! ’
He said, ‘I can’t, ’ but changed his mind
And went to work as father told.
The man then came to his other
Son, gave a similar order;
He said, ‘Yes, I’ll.’ But never went.
‘Which son obeyed his father’s words? ’
They answered in reply, ‘The first! ’
Then Jesus said, ‘Amen, I say,
Tax-collectors and prostitutes
Are entering Heaven ‘foe you! ’
When John had come and preached to you,
The righteous way, you didn’t believe;
Tax-collectors, prostitutes did.
Yet, even after seeing it,
You did not change for the better.
He told another parable:
A vineyard owner raised a hedge
Around it, dug a wine-press too
And erected a watch-tower;
He leased it to some tenants then
And went off on a journey far.
When vintage time drew near, he sent
His servants to obtain produce;
The tenants seized the servants all:
They beat one man and stoned the next;
They killed one servant from the group;
The owner sent then more servants;
They treated them in similar ways;
He sent his son finally then
Thinking, ‘They will respect my son! ’
On seeing son of landowner,
The tenants told one another
‘This is the heir to the vineyard;
Let’s kill him and acquire the land.’
They killed the boy and threw him out.’
‘How will the owner deal tenants? ’
They answered him, ‘he’ll put to death
The wretched tenants; lease vineyard
To other tenants who will give
Him produce at the proper times.’
Then Jesus asked them, ‘Didn’t you read
What scriptures said long ago then:
‘The stone, the builders rejected,
Became the cornerstone and chief
And this was done by God, most High,
And looks wonderful in our eyes! ’
Therefore, I say to you again,
‘The kingdom shall be tak’n away
from you and giv’n to people who
Produce its fruits as per God’s word.
The one who falls upon this stone
Will be to pieces dashed at once
And it will crush on whom it falls! ’
When Pharisees and chief priests heard,
The parables that spoke of them,
They wanted to arrest Him but
Feared the crowds that followed Him,
Regarding Him, Prophet of God.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-7-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Salman Rushdie, indeed any writer who abuses the prophet or indeed any prophet under Islamic law, the sentence for that is actually death.
quote by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your (pbuy) Love's Miracles
The space is full of small droplets, delicate
But all of the don't have the same fate,
Only those the colors of the rainbow create
Who are blessed with your love, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Countless flowers smile in parks and valleys
Not for months and years but some dailies
Only those give forth sweet smell in rallies
Who want to see you, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
A large variety of herbs spreads on the ground
Some with ease and some with hardship found
Only those for good health are the most sound
That want to kiss your feet, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Numberless particles lie down on earth's face
Humility stays with them in close, fast embrace
Only those shine with marvelous, high grace
Who wait for you, o dear peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Countless oysters live in the lap of ocean
Pearls are not found in the same proportion
But in those who have your love's passion
Are blessed with pearls, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Countless stars roam about in endless heaven
All the time, in all seasons, round the days seven
But only those flames dark night does enliven
That pray for you o dear, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Homeless clouds float in the sea of sky
Some crawl low some move on high
Only those quench the thirst of earth dry
That saturate with your love, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Countless breaths come to us and depart
With them moves ahead life's slow cart
But only those give life to the beating heart
That are filled with your love, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Endless tears trickle down the walls of eyes
Along with repeated sobs and fast sighs
But only that to the high heaven flies
That is shed in your love, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
May we also become fortunate Amen!
May we also get your love's charming sheen!
May we get a glance of your kindness keen!
Life and death in your love, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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