To
I remember the marvellous moment
you appeared before me,
like a transient vision,
like pure beauty’s spirit.
Lost in hopeless sadness,
lost in the loud world’s turmoil,
I heard your voice’s echo,
and often dreamed your features.
Years passed. The storm winds scattered,
with turbulent gusts, that dreaming.
I forgot your voice, its tenderness.
I forgot your lovely face.
Remote in my darkened exile,
the days dragged by so slowly,
without grace, without inspiration,
without life, without tears, without love.
Then my spirit woke
and you, you appeared again,
like a transient vision,
like pure beauty’s spirit.
And my heart beats with delight,
and ecstasy, inside me,
and grace and inspiration,
and tears, and life, and love.
poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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To... (Kern)
I still recall the wondrous moment
When you appeared before my eyes,
Just like a fleeting apparition,
Just like pure beauty's distillation.
When'er I languished in the throes of hopeless grief
Amid the troubles of life's vanity,
Your sweet voice lingered on in me,
Your dear face came to me in dreams.
Years passed. The raging, gusty storms
Dispersed my former reveries,
And I forgot your tender voice,
Your features so divine.
In exile, in confinement's gloom,
My uneventful days wore on,
Bereft of awe and inspiration
Bereft of tears, of life, of love.
My soul awakened once again:
And once again you came to me,
Just like a fleeting apparition
Just like pure beauty's distillation.
My heart again resounds in rapture,
Within it once again arise
Feelings of awe and inspiration,
Of life itself, of tears, and love.
poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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The Vision
I remember a marvellous instant,
Unto me bending down from above,
Thy radiant vision appearing
As an angel of beauty and love.
'Mid the torments of desperate sadness,
In the torture of bondage and sighs,
To me rang thy voice so beloved--
And I dreamed thy miraculous eyes.
But the years rolled along--and life's tempests
My illusions, my youth overcame,
I forgot that sweet voice full of music--
And thy glance like a heavenly flame.
In the covert and grief of my exile,
The days stretched unchanged in their flight,
Bereft inspiration or power,
Bereft both of love and of light.
To my soul now approaches awakening,
To me thou art come from above,
As a radiant and wonderful vision--
As an angel of beauty and love.
As before my heart throbs with emotion,
Life looks to me worthy and bright,
And I feel inspiration and power--
And again love and tears and the light!
poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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B l u e s
no, it’s beyond words.
say a word your word
if you need,
death loss tears grief gone ever
it’s beyond all these
take them hold them
press them tear them
squeeze from them
the tears of things
tears at the heart of things
squeeze this pure pure liquid
from these from life itself
so pure it’s nameless
so pure it’s the being
of your being,
the truth of truth,
the beauty, of all the sadness
that ever,
so pure, so true
that never again;
so pure, it could be
joy or love or grace
wash in its purity
this is life
poem by Michael Shepherd
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My Mom
My Mom was like a perfect rose at springtime,
Pure and beautiful, and the petals perfectly formed,
And it's fragrance sweet and pleasing to the senses.
For the rose, as my mom, came into this world as a thing of beauty.
As time passed, the winds came into my mother's life,
For as life brings the rose, it also brings the winds.
The wind blows the petals off the rose and it is no longer new
And struggles through the wind to regain its strength and beauty.
Because the rose by God's design is a thing of splendor,
The petals grow back as the winds die down,
As did my mother, for her spirit was strong,
And she lived her life with a love that had no boundaries.
My Mom fought many winds with grace and strength,
Always with a smile and never to bring sadness to anyone,
For she could not bear to see anyone cry,
She was too full of love and life to let the wind touch her spirit.
Mom was my perfect rose; beautiful, warm, loving, and sweet.
She is safe from the winds now and lives in Heaven.
She will live on in my heart always,
And ease the strong wind that weakens me.
Someday the wind will be only a gentle breeze upon my face,
And I will know that she lives on in me forever.
I will know that my Mom is still with me,
Still beautiful and strong and loving.
She is safe now and so much stronger than the winds
The she so courageously endured.
And in that she taught me to believe, have faith, and to know
That I have the strength to endure the winds of my own sorrow.
I love you Mom, you are forever in my heart - you are forever.
poem by Sally DeSmet Trueblood
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With My Beloved
With my Beloved I alone have been,
When secrets tenderer than evening airs
Passed, and the Vision blest
Was granted to my prayers,
That crowned me, else obscure, with endless fame;
The while amazed between
His Beauty and His Majesty
I stood in silent ecstasy
Revealing that which o'er my spirit went and came.
Lo, in His face commingled
Is every charm and grace;
The whole of Beauty singled
Into a perfect face
Beholding Him would cry,
'There is no God but He, and He is the most High.'
poem by Rabia al Basri
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Rose An Inspiration
Rose, the sign of love
Beauty is picturesque
Speaks for itself
An inspiration
Rose, scent is everlasting
Always fresh upon the eyes
Keeping a pose of pure divine
Beauty evokes
An inspiration
Rose, pedals are smooth
With a bounty of great beauty
Shows affectionate feelings
Has a unique power
An inspiration
Rose, sways slowly in a breeze
Perfuming a scent all its own
So, sweet and light
An inspiration
Rose, in full bloom, it is radiant
As it whispers of passion
Breathes of love
An inspiration
Rose, each thorn has a reminder
Rose, is fragile and delicate
Love can hurt
An inspiration
Rose, a token of great love
An inspiration
poem by Elizabeth Grant Price
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A Magic Moment I Remember
A magic moment I remember:
I raised my eyes and you were there,
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that's beautiful and rare
I pray to mute despair and anguish,
To vain the pursuits world esteems,
Long did I hear your soothing accents,
Long did your features haunt my dreams.
Time passed. A rebel storm-blast scattered
The reveries that once were mine
And I forgot your soothing accents,
Your features gracefully divine.
In dark days of enforced retirement
I gazed upon grey skies above
With no ideals to inspire me
No one to cry for, live for, love.
Then came a moment of reinessance,
I looked up - you again are there
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that's beautiful and rare
poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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Love Her Beauty
How I love her beauty,
When I knew of such existence,
I searched for ever for her beauty,
Her existence lead me to another
World, another life, when I look up
At the stars the spirit of Picasso
Creates the vision of her beauty
Among the stars, I yearn to look
Upon her beauty for a blink of an
Eye is Hundreds of years, eternity
Between heart beats, a thousand
Sunsets and a thousand full moons
Pass and my search is forever.
poem by Rocky Romance
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What is grace? It is the inspiration from on high: it is love; it is liberty. Grace is the spirit of law. This discovery of the spirit of law belongs to Saint Paul; and what he calls "grace" from a heavenly point of view, we, from an earthly point, call "righteousness."
quote by Victor Hugo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her love is my inspiration
Her love is my inspiration
Love is the inspiration for my heart to sing a tune,
love is the inspiration for my ear to hear,
love is the inspiration for my soul to warm,
love is the inspiration for my mouth to smile,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to glisten.
Love is the inspiration to draw my soul near another
love is the inspiration for my mouth to utter sweet words,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to gaze upon her,
love is the inspiration for my heart to speak out.
Love is the inspiration for need, love is the inspiration for my mouth to touch hers,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to close,
love is the inspiration for my heart to race,
love is the inspiration for my tears to burn.
Love is the inspiration for longing,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to see only her,
love is the inspiration for my heart to cry out,
love is the inspiration for my ear to hear her whispers,
love is the inspiration for my soul to join hers forever.
Love is the inspiration for forever,
love is the inspiration for my heart to be whole,
love is the inspiration for my ear to always hear those words,
love is the inspiration for my soul to have hers,
love is the inpiration for my mouth to speak the truth.
Love is the inspiration for my soul to seek life
love is the inspirationfor my ear to hear her words,
love is the inspiration for my soul to reach for her,
love is the inspiration for my mouth to speak her truths,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to always look upon her first,
For she is the inspiration for my Love.
Nathaniel Cole Buddington
poem by Nathan Buddington
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The Lost One
COME to the grave--the silent grave! and dream
Of a light, happy voice--so full of joy,
That those who heard her laugh, would laugh again,
Echoing the mirth of such an innocent spirit;
And pause in their own converse, to look round,
Won by the witchery of that gleesome tone.
Come to the grave--the lone dark grave! and dream
Of eyes whose brilliancy was of the soul,
Eyes which, with one bright flash from their dark lids,
Seemed at a glance to read the thoughts of others;
Or, with a full entire tenderness,
The pure expression of all-perfect love,
(Of woman's love, which is for you alone,
While your's is for yourself)--gave in that look
The promise of a life of meek affection.
Come to the grave--the mouldering grave! and dream
Of a fair form that glided over earth
One of its happiest creatures:--to her cheek
The lightest word might bring the blushing blood
In pure carnation;--down her graceful neck,
The long rich curls of jet hung carelessly,
Untortured by the cunning hand of art:
And on her brow, bright purity and joy,
Twin sisters, sate,--as on a holy throne.
Come yet unto the grave--the still, damp grave!
And dream of a young heart that beat with life,
And all life's best affections; of a heart
Where sorrow never came, nor fear, nor sin--
Nor aught save innocence, and perfect love:
And, having dreamed of such a lovely being--
So gay, so bright, so pure, so fond, so meek--
Having thus conjured up a form of love
In thine own pausing and regretful mind;--
A vision will be present to thy soul,
A faint, but faithful portraiture, of one
Most dearly loved, and now for ever lost!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Trust in the Lord
The air is dark and heavy
All your life's burdens are here
The road seems long and rocky
And your heart is filled with fear
The horizon fills with darkness
As the storm comes strong ahead
You feel so weak and hopeless
But, you remember what's been said
Trust in the Lord
When you cry, when you sing
Don't beleive your own eyes
For He sees everything
And in all ways give thanks
Thanks for His grace and love
He will lead you through this life
By the spirit, sent from above
You've seen the battles fought
You've seen your friends pass by
Sometimes life seems so pointless
That it's hard to even try
But, God has given you a gift
A gift of salvation and grace
He loves you in your weakness
Just look into His face
Trust in the Lord
When you cry, when you sing
Don't beleive your own eyes
For He sees everything
And in all ways give thanks
Thanks for His grace and love
He will lead you through this life
By the spirit, sent from above
((November 19th,2000))
poem by Danny Speicher
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Lost Spirit
I hardly know who I am anymore
On this day when my spirit
Seems to be lost in the clouds-
The sun is trying to show its face as
The moon retreats behind the mountains-
It was forty three years ago when I lost myself-
Lost myself inside the world of my delusions-
When fate opened the door and let me into
This world of madness, where
Expressionless faces appeared and
Raised their voices- these voices only I could hear?
Now everyone is circle dancing about the sun and
As I would walk toward with my arms outstretched
Trying to become a part of this group of strangers, gracefully pirouetting,
While singing a tuneful melody about
Love, bliss, and gracefulness -feelings foreign to me-
Foreign to me from birth-
It is as if their grasps upon one another are locked,
Locked and keyed so that I cannot enter-
I have always been labeled as different-
Not uniquely blessed but different in
Some sort of maudlin and bizarre sort of way?
I hardly know who I am anymore-
I suppose I never knew, but as of now
I wish the sun would set below the mountaintops so that
The moon could rise above with the stars,
All of the people in the world would disappear and
I would be left alone, dancing to my own tune-
My tune about my once lost spirit being found-
Although the voices only I can hear are threatening,
At least have become familiar- but now I hear the thunder clapping,
Lightening brightening the now darkened sky as my spirit
Has become a night bird flying aimlessly about-
Some have said that birds have no souls and
Now as the rain falls in torrents I feel as if
My spirit has been lost forever atop the wings of this night bird,
Who has flown into the blackness of this mysterious night-?
Life is indeed a mystery to me because of my lost spirit
That once could have become queen of the forest and everyone has vanished,
I have found the solitude I have once longed for so often but it hardly matters now,
Because my spirit has gone astray, and
I hardly know who I am anymore?
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Innocence Lost
I can't relive my life
I can't retrace my tracks
I can't undo what's done
There is no going back
I chased a selfish dream
Did not survey the cost
Illusions disappeared
I've found my innocence lost
Some say it's lessons learned
Some say it's a living life
I say it's choices made
Knowing wrong from right
One night I fought to sleep
In my slumber I turned and tossed
I woke to a cloudy day
And found my innocence lost
Innocent child is a beautiful thing
Secure in her father's arms
Sleeps while a mother sings
There's no way to know
All the harm this world can bring
I miss my innocence
Oh, to be innocent
My heavenly Father
The well of eternal love
That overflows with grace
I can completely trust
My broken heart repaired
And all my sin forgot
I can be pure again
In spite of my innocence lost
In his eyes I'm a newborn child
Cuz I accept his love
I have a newfound hope
Though I've found my innocence lost
I can be pure again
I've found my innocence lost
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost In You
Lost in your silence's loud beats,
I celebrate your many acheived feats.
Lost in the smile of your heart,
I yearn for your body-filled art.
Lost in the sound of your name,
I wonder when you will feel the same.
Lost in your fond friendly friendship,
I begin to fixate our courtship.
Lost in your unconditional trust,
I save your bubble from every bust.
Lost in your intimate closeness,
I worship your pure holiness.
Lost in your soul's spiritual presence,
I marvel in your every ounce's essence.
Lost in your everlasting love,
I fly with your spirit's every dove.
Lost in you I am wherever,
I vow to be lost forever.
poem by Suraj Samtani
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0175 Love's Butterfly
As butterflies with beauty grace the air,
so love cannot be lazy in its love;
true love brings lovely energies to bear;
love's actions grace the true contemplative.
devoted action is the path we tread
when stirred at first by love of love's first cause;
to purge our souls of that we wish us rid;
such tasks may grace our caterpillar days.
humility - which is to know pure self,
seen clearly as the light of bad and good -
brings contemplation's share in godly wealth;
those shining works which are love's neighbourhood;
then we God's goodness, truth and beauty share;
as butterflies with beauty grace the air.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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As The Spirit Moves
We’re moved on by the Spirit of God, where we’re found upon this sod,
Enlightened right at that very place, through The Lord’s Amazing Grace.
Moved to make a decision for Him, as a darkened sinner lost in our sin,
A decision that changes our life, as we accept The Savior, Jesus Christ.
Once we were enemies with God, and now lead by God’s staff and rod,
No need at all to look to the Lord, now His Lead and Grace is implored,
And The Spirit who first moved on us, now lives in all, who in God trust,
Sealed by God’s Spirit from above, are all those saved by God’s Love.
In our unbelief we stood at enmity, with our Creator and God of Eternity,
Merely wanders down upon this earth, born in sin through a natural birth,
But by God’s Spirit we’re Born Again, no longer an enemy, now a friend,
And now a member of God’s family, in a relationship that’ll last eternally.
The Holy Spirit, sent by our Creator, points all men to Christ, The Savior,
Savior and The Lord of all creation, who sent from God, is our salvation,
Prompted by The Father’s Love, Christ left His Throne, in Heaven above,
To be a Lamb and Shepherd too, of all believing souls, like me and you.
Now God’s Holy Spirit lives within, all true believers saved from their sin,
To live this present life a new way, lead by the Spirit each and every day,
To be Christ’s witness and His light, to all those men still lost in the night,
As God moves upon another soul, with His Spirit, to join in Christ’s Fold.
(Copyright ©11/2008)
Muse
She sits there so peacefully,
So beautiful.
Her mere presence, an inspiration.
My spirit delights in her lovely being.
The taste of her lips holds a thousand pleasures.
A different pleasure each time.
Her voice like a Psalm of the angels.
Her comforting presence is peace.
Her being is stunning.
In her eyes, love's eternity is foretold.
As I get lost in her eyes, I am found.
For the sheer beauty of heavens creation unfolds.
She is God's greatest creation.
She is love.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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A Story of True Love *Abortion
The room smelling of cleaner and metal
nauseating and mind reeling
feeling her heart race
with nervousness and fear
for the life inside her
her beloved
hoping for life
in the outside world
feeling along and afraid
putting a small hand to her womb
as if trying to get a hold of the tiny new life
forming inside her body
such a beautiful thing
closing her eyes
sighing deeply
slipping into an unknown world
dreaming of love
only to be jolted awake
a stern voice rang out
calling a foreign name
her name
could it really be?
was it really time?
her heart in her throat
she stood
shaking uncontrollably
tears threatening
mind screaming bloody murder
murder...
murder! ! !
what was she doing?
realizing her mistake
her heart stopped
she gasped
biting the hand that appeared
at her frozen lips
tears now flowing
asking herself why
why she was putting herself through this..
why she was putting her baby through this..
through such terror and turmoil
her whirling thoughts were making her dizzy
hearing her name again
she looks up
tears blinding her vision
feeling empty and ashamed
she shakes her head
the stranger questions her stance
she stares blankly at her
and shakes her head
understanding her decision
the woman's heart swelled with pride
tears projecting
she looks at the closed door
telling her to leave this desolate place
to give life and hope
to love the small being growing inside her
to live in eternity
Picture Of A Young Lady
When I was sitting, sad, and all alone,
Remembering youth and love for ever fled,
And many friends now resting with the dead,
While the still summer's light departing shone,
Like many sweet and silent summers gone;
Thou camest, as a vision, with a mien
And smile like those I once on earth had seen,
And with a voice of that remembered tone
Which I in other days, long since, had heard:
Like Peace approaching, when distempers fret
Most the tired spirit, thy fair form appeared;
And till I die, I never shall forget,--
For at thy footstep light, the gloom was cheered,--
Thy look and voice, oh! gentle Margaret.
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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