I Saw God
i saw god this morning...
and brushed her long grey hair,
as she sat in her favorite chair,
watching the sunrise through
an open window....
the stray cat lay in her lap,
perfectly still,
while birds with hidden faces
sang songs to the stillness...
and time itself began again!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Related quotes
Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Silvia Velea
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Vanaprasthiya
Their grandchild’s silken first hair
brushed with tender love;
their own hair, grey or white or gone;
household handed over to
their son, daughter, or
their spouse; now,
to find again themselves, to be themselves;
free, they walk the morning air of freedom
towards the woods; upon the way,
meet others of their age.
Trees - as every child knows
and old men may remember;
old women see through their own children's eyes -
listen with such silent wisdom,
that among the trees,
all become wise.
And so they, the honoured aged,
meet, acknowledge, greet,
speak as many words as truth may draw;
meditate; then, open eyes and every sense
teach, this is what a temple is;
this is what you are.
Evening stillness; then they return
to the hearth and warmth of family; as
a great grove of ancient, fresh-leafed trees
where in stillness soul meets nature
and finds truth arise.
*
[With thanks to Sunil Bhattacharya for some hints of history]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Malade
The sick grapes on the chair by the bed lie prone; at the window
The tassel of the blind swings gently, tapping the pane,
As a little wind comes in.
The room is the hollow rind of a fruit, a gourd
Scooped out and dry, where a spider,
Folded in its legs as in a bed,
Lies on the dust, watching where is nothing to see but twilight and walls.
And if the day outside were mine! What is the day
But a grey cave, with great grey spider-cloths hanging
Low from the roof, and the wet dust falling softly from them
Over the wet dark rocks, the houses, and over
The spiders with white faces, that scuttle on the floor of the cave!
I am choking with creeping, grey confinedness.
But somewhere birds, beside a lake of light, spread wings
Larger than the largest fans, and rise in a stream upwards
And upwards on the sunlight that rains invisible,
So that the birds are like one wafted feather,
Small and ecstatic suspended over a vast spread country.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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In His Own Way
I feel I’m in heaven when
I hear that music, Father said,
Sitting in the chair in the garden,
Recovering from some old illness,
Hearing the Couperin organ masses
Playing through the open window
From your old black and red hi-fi
Record player. He was nearer to
Heaven than he thought, cancer
Was creeping through him like a
Silent snake. He didn’t go much on
Your Ornette Coleman’s alto runs
And tweaks of free jazz; what racket’s
That he’d say, trying to snooze in the
Afternoon sun, his companion Death
Lingering by, waiting for him in his
Own time to die. The garden’s empty
Now; his chair vacated, no more of
Couperin organ masses or Coleman’s
Free jazz playing out from an open
Window on a summer’s day, just birds
Singing nature songs across the way.
poem by Terry Collett
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In Praise Of Fiona
how orderly are your lines
how beautifully they appear
like morning sunrise that
never fails to arrive on the
window sills of my loneliness
and then the doors open
and then the floors sway
to the rhythm of your songs
but she was no longer there
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Silent Night, All Day Long
Theres a pine tree in a window in a house on a hill
With a tree top angel sitting perfectly still
Shes watching the shoppers walk through the snow
With their arms full of treasures and hearts all aglow
Chorus:
We held hands and stared at the lights on the tree
As if christmas was invented for you and for me
When the angel on the treetop requested a song
We sang silent night all day long
Theres a family thats gathered in some living room
Dinner on the table thats been cooking since noon
Stockings on the mantle are hanging with care
While every body is saying a prayer
Repeat chorus
Theres a room out there somewhere with a woman in a chair
With memories of childhood still lingering there.
How pretty the paper, the lights and the snow.
How precious those memories of long long ago.
Repeat chorus
When the angel on the treetop requested a song.
We sang silent night all day long
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cold Grey Morning
Cold grey morning without sunlight ghostly mist on the horizon
Empty visions of a world gone mad paints a picture so revealing
Through my window dark tomorrow I can hear the sirens wailing
For the future we are holding on as the ship of fools is sailing
Such a long time such a long time
We are waiting for a peace that's lasting
Reaching upward sliding downward looks like just another
Cold grey morning
Hardly breathing hope is fading it's the e nd of the beginning
Children playing in the empty streets it's a cold grey morning
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunrise
BY BARRY MANILOW AND ADRIENNE ANDERSON
And so it began as I sat by my window
All by myself in the dawn
Nobody else, no polite conversation
Just waiting for life to come on
And I see the sunrise
Over the ocean
Sunrise on the sea
I'm watchin' the sunrise
And glad to be livin'
Sunrise
Shine over me
I think of my life as I look out my window
Of people I love, places I've been
Sometimes I feel I could go on forever
With nothin' to lose, nothin' to win
When I see the sunrise
Over the ocean
Sunrise on the sea
I'm watchin' the sunrise
And glad to be livin'
Sunrise
Shine over me
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jesus Walk
The other day I was weeping
The tears kept coming to my eyes
But then I looked out my window
As though pleaded, to look outside.
But my tears just kept falling
Caused by the worries and world outside
As the hate and sin kept growing
From which, no one can hide.
So then I brushed the world aside
As compelled to search the sky
And then; I shook in wonder,
For I saw Jesus, walking at sunrise.
He was walking with out stretched hands
Though reaching for every woman and man
And I, didnt make a sound,
For I was lost, and never found.
I watched him walk with such concern
As He watched the world below
He walked with such shame and pity
My teardrops, began to grow.
And as I watched as Jesus walked
I knew then the Lord did care
No matter how I felt,
I knew Jesus would always be there.
And as Jesus kept walking
I saw sorrow on his saddened face
Was it though for His children and world
Or was it, for their future and fate.
So I just kept watching Jesus
As he looked, and searched the world
Then suddenly; He just disappeared
As though, He was never here.
So then I closed my window
And fell to my knees to pray and cry
Though this time not for the world or me,
But for Jesus, who walked at sunrise.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Whitney Houston Tribute
Whitney born in New Jersey in the year of 1963,
she had talent, with her songs she made people happy.
She sang great songs with a long range of chords.
She sang with fire which everyone adored
we are shocked of her passing she can't be ignored,
for she contributed to the "World of Music"
music that had never been done before.
She sang of Children changing the world,
she had beautiful lyrics that set the record.
May your daughter Bobby Kristina be
comforted in this time of sorrow,
Hope she recovers and has peaceful tomorrows.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on February 14,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Watching For Pa
Three little forms in the twilight gray,
Searching the shadows across the way;
Two pair of black eyes, and one of blue --
Brimful of love, and of mischief too;
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
May, with her placid and thoughtful brow,
Beaming with kindness and love just now;
Willie the youngest, in anguish did lay,
Stealing sly kisses from sister May,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Nellie, with ringlets of sunny hue,
Cosily nested between the two;
Pressing her cheeks to the window pane,
Wishing the absent one home again.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Now there are shouts from the window seat;
There is a patter of childish feet;
Gaily they rush through the lighted hall --
"Coming at last" is the joyful call.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
poem by Henry Clay Work
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My Favorite Time
My favorite time of morning
Is that time of morning when
I have a cup of warm coffee in my hands
And the sun barely peeks over the land
When the day is yet unwritten
When I am alone in the quiet
With thoughts of you
To keep me company
At my favorite time
My favorite time of the day
Is that time of day when
I hear your voice or see your words
And I know you are engaged in me
As I am engaged in you
As I am replete with thoughts of you
Warm thoughts of you
Across the miles
At my favorite time
My favorite time of the night
Is that time of night when
I close my eyes and dream of you
And my dreams are vivid, sweet and real
In them we are together
In them there is no yesterday or tomorrow
Only a never ending today
With you always
At my favorite time
So my favorite time really
Is that real time
I am privileged to think of you
And to know that no matter what
You are all I could ever want
You are all I will ever need
In a partner, friend and love
I know this now because with you I am always
In my favorite time
poem by David Terry
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Waiting For The Sunrise
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
So I can take your hand and stroll about.
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
So we can go on the streets and see the people smile.
Give me your hand,
So I could tell you that things will be alright.
The rooms still dark,
But it wont be so long,
And I can take you outside.
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
So we can go to the park and roll about.
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
So we can go to the docks and watch the boats go by.
Come on, love, give me your hand,
And things will be alright.
The rooms still cold,
But it wont be so long,
That we can go outside.
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
So I could see your hair shining in the air.
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
So I can see the sky reflected in your eyes.
Come on, love, dont be depressed,
Things will be alright.
The rooms too low,
But it wont be so long,
That we can be outside.
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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World of White
When I woke up this morning
My world was layered in white
So cold it was and very still
Snow had fallen through the night
No birds chirped a good morning
The bugs were hidden away
Instead was this harsh cold
I felt as though it would stay
I could barely see my lawn chair
For white had settled so thick
I wished I had seen it fall
This snow as it began to stick
The trees and bushes were
A fresh and lovely sight
Snow decorated the branches
Making winter look just right
We must enjoy the changes
So lovely and cold and bright
It will not last for long
This wonderful world of white!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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From Dusk to Dawn
As the end of the day takes on a stillness,
and the daylight blue changes to grey.
The twilight suddenly becomes quite noisy
as the birds have their last say.
They flutter for position on the branches
and disturb the stillness of the leaves.
Squabbling for their night-time roosts,
with the magpies dominating with ease.
It takes quite a while for the birds to settle,
but there's a disagreeable one,
and that one brings mayhem to the treetops,
until persuaded it's time to move on.
As dawn approaches there's a movement,
a bird changes its place of stay.
An early bird welcomes in the new morning
as it gets its first sight of day.
Early hours and the treetops are waking,
the magpie tidies its wings and tail.
Yesterday’s bread is much too hard to swallow,
so it swoops down, and wets it in the pail.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Open the Window
Open any window, then wind enters
Hostile weathers do arise from the sun,
As far as eyes see, the ultimate warrior
Causes me to resent the sunny climate.
Gorgeous faces wish a face of sorrow
Whenever you glance at faces too long.
How are your golden plans in answer
To interrogation committed by the sun.
Open any window, worry when there is gold
In your lovely life, a love is near.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Love's pain sang round my life like the unplumbed sea, and love's joy sang like birds in its flowering groves.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Opening A New Window
come to my room
let us open a new window
that opens to another window
look at my face
and hold the side of my body
i will caress your hair with my hands
hold your body softly as a wind holds a feather
my fingers shall travel from the tips of your hair
down to the last tips of the toes of your feet
let us be happy, let us try opening another window
let us see the other windows hidden from our eyes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Dawn
Sitting at my desk in the half-light,
watching in the stillness
as the sky brightens for the coming day.
Everywhere there are mouths wide open
with their yawns as the sleep of night dissipates
at the coming of a fresh new dawn.
The resurgent of life begins again,
opening cupboards for boxed breakfasts there,
kettle on for the morning cuppa
as arms outstretch towards the heavens
to rid the occupant of the last dregs of sleep.
As I sit in wonderment,
a new day awakes outside my window;
petals unfurl to meet the sun.
The calling of birds getting ready
for their daily quest for food.
Slowly the world is waking
to start another day
near and far away.
Let us hope it will be better
than the day we left behind.
23 August 2007
poem by David Harris
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