The Voice Of Spring
I come, I come! ye have called me long;
I come o'er the mountains, with light and song.
Ye may trace my step o'er the waking earth
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves opening as I pass.
I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut-flowers
By thousands have burst from the forest bowers,
And the ancient graves and the fallen fanes
Are veiled with wreaths on Italian plains;
But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom,
To speak of the ruin or the tomb!
I have looked o'er the hills of the stormy North,
And the larch has hung all his tassels forth;
The fisher is out on the sunny sea,
And the reindeer bounds o'er the pastures free,
And the pine has a fringe of softer green,
And the moss looks bright, where my step has been.
I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh,
And called out each voice of the deep blue sky,
From the night-bird's lay through the starry time,
In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime,
To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes,
When the dark fir-branch into verdure breaks.
From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain;
They are sweeping on to the silvery main,
They are flashing down from the mountain brows,
They are flinging spray o'er the forest boughs,
They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves,
And the earth resounds with the joy of waves.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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My Own Shall Come to Me
I come, I come! ye have called me long;
I come o'er the mountains, with light and song.
Ye may trace my step o'er the waking earth
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves opening as I pass.
I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut-flowers
By thousands have burst from the forest bowers,
And the ancient graves and the fallen fanes
Are veiled with wreaths on Italian plains;
But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom,
To speak of the ruin or the tomb!
I have looked o'er the hills of the stormy North,
And the larch has hung all his tassels forth;
The fisher is out on the sunny sea,
And the reindeer bounds o'er the pastures free,
And the pine has a fringe of softer green,
And the moss looks bright, where my step has been.
I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh,
And called out each voice of the deep blue sky,
From the night-bird's lay through the starry time,
In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime,
To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes,
When the dark fir-branch into verdure breaks.
From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain;
They are sweeping on to the silvery main,
They are flashing down from the mountain brows,
They are flinging spray o'er the forest boughs,
They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves,
And the earth resounds with the joy of waves.
poem by John Burroughs
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Today... 'Jesus Christ
He's the Son of God and the Son of Man.
and now step by step we can trace God's plan.
For His human ancestry can be seen
through the lives of those that have walked this scene.
The genealogy of the Messiah
we trace from Abraham through to Josiah
On throughout each ancestors life and death
until we come to the man called Joseph.
By The Spirit conceived, The Promised One
Jesus Christ, God's Only Belovèd Son
brought God's wondrous Grace and Truth to the earth
when born in a stable by virgin birth.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Cheyenne Anthem
From the mountains to the sun, Life has only just begun.
We wed this land and pledge our souls to meet its end,
Life has only just begun
Here my people roam the earth, in the kingdom of our birth,
Where the dust of all our horses hides the sun
We are mighty on the earth, on the earth
You have come to move me, take me from my ancient home,
Land of my fathers I can't leave you now
We will share it with you, no man owns this earth we're on
Now the wheels are rolling hear the howling winds of war
It's my destiny to fight and die
Is there no solution, can we find no other way, Lord let me stay
Under the endless sky and the earth below
Here I was born to live and I will never go, oh no
But we cannot endure like the earth and the mountains
Life is not ours to keep, for a new sun is rising
Soon these days shall pass away, for our freedom we must pay
All our words and deeds are carried on the wind,
In the ground our bodies lay, here we lay
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flower O' The Year
The laggard year is now at prime
And primrose-time is daffodil-time;
Where do the boys delay? What tether
Hinders them from the heavenly weather,
From violet-time and cowslip-time?
Why do they keep the house so late?
The sweet o' the year is at the gate,
And hear the cuckoo calling, saying:
Up, slug-a-bed! 'Tis time for Maying!
The cuckoo calling early and late.
They have stolen away before the dawn,
No print in the May-dew on the lawn
Betrays the way their light feet taking
Set not the quaking grass to shaking,
Running so light-foot in the dawn.
The primrose and the daffodil weather
Is here, and cowslips troop together;
The lambs frolic in pastures gold,
But since they come not it is cold.
Cold the primrose and daffodil weather.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Eternal Circle
I sang the song slowly
As she stood in the shadows
She stepped to the light
As my silver strings spun
She called with her eyes
To the tune is a-playin
But the song it was long
And Id only begun
Through a bullet of light
Her face was reflectin
The fast fading words
That rolled from my tongue
With a long-distance look
Her eyes was on fire
But the song it was long
And there was more to be sung.
My eyes danced a circle
Across her clear outline
With her head tilted sideways
She called me again
As the tune drifted out
She breathed hard through the echo
But the song it was long
And it was far to the end
I glanced at my guitar
And played it pretendin
That of all the eyes out there
I could see none
As her thoughts pounded hard
Like the pierce of an arrow
But the song it was long
And it had to get done
As the tune finally folded
I laid down the guitar
Then looked for the girl
Whod stayed for so long
But her shadow was missin
For all of my searchin
So I picked up my guitar
And began the next song
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem About Earth
I'm what's called a human being
and I've been one since my birth
I've lived here for many years
on this place that we call Earth.
Never lived anywhere else
as Earth's the place for me
other human beings live here too
and animals like Dogs and Chimpanzee.
Earth is called a Planet
but it's not like Mars
no humans live up there
so they'd be no Buses or cars.
There's lots of stuff on Earth
like Rivers, Mountains, and Trees,
and people grow stuff on Allotments
like Radish, Cabbage, and Peas.
The best things here on Earth?
has to be Football, Women, and Beer,
and because you won't find them on Mars
I say thank you Lord for putting them here!
poem by Kevin Halls
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The First Bluebirds
THE poor earth was so winter-marred,
Harried by storm so long,
It seemed no spring could mend her,
No tardy sunshine render
Atonement for such wrong.
Snow after snow, and gale and hail,
Gaunt trees encased in icy mail,
The glittering drifts so hard
They took no trace
Of scared, wild feet,
No print of fox and hare
Driven by dearth
To forage for their meat
Even in dooryard bare
And frosty lawn
Under the peril of the human race;
And then one primrose dawn,
Sweet, sweet, O sweet,
And tender, tender,
The bluebirds woke the happy earth
With song.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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The Treasure
Mountains, a moment's earth-waves rising and hollowing; the
earth too's an ephemerid; the stars-
Short-lived as grass the stars quicken in the nebula and dry in their
summer, they spiral
Blind up space, scattered black seeds of a future; nothing lives
long, the whole sky's
Recurrences tick the seconds of the hours of the ages of the gulf
before birth, and the gulf
After death is like dated: to labor eighty years in a notch of
eternity is nothing too tiresome,
Enormous repose after, enormous repose before, the flash of
activity.
Surely you never have dreamed the incredible depths were prologue
and epilogue merely
To the surface play in the sun, the instant of life, what is called
life? I fancy
That silence is the thing, this noise a found word for it; interjection,
a jump of the breath at that silence;
Stars burn, grass grows, men breathe: as a man finding treasure
says 'Ah!' but the treasure's the essence;
Before the man spoke it was there, and after he has spoken he
gathers it, inexhaustible treasure.
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Days Are Exhusting
Days are exhausting
So much to do
So little time to do it
Light hours
Extinguish leaving only
Night
Sleepy and tired
Waking to another day
When light vanishes quickly
Waking to another day
With its own work
That must be completed
Wishing to simply stop
To not have anything to do
Just stoping for awhile
poem by Autumn Winds
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Raas!
The evening opens a wound,
a secret agony.
It neither heals nor gives solace.
The sacred whore who liberates herself
from the flesh.
Sun is pink and ashamed.
A crescent moon thought it was time
to step outside and find out the truth.
Night was willing to participate. She
wrote a message on the sky
as a survivor of a slaughter.
And now the paths of winds trace
a faded destiny of earth. It had
nothing to offer, till the god of hopes
comes in purple light and the jasmines,
open their dancing eyes.
poem by Satish Verma
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Good News
Drop your guns
And hear the news
The war is won
And weve called a truce
The key is found
And the circle complete
And the higher ground
Is beneath our feet
Like the turn of a page
Or a change of gear
A brand new age
Is already here
And even while
Men pursue their doom
A magical child
Is kicking in the womb
Im preparing for birth
Im not the only one
Im a part of the earth
Im a drop of the sun
Im in step with the stars
Im in a league with the land
Im a functioning part of the masters plan!
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Earth
Words and music by tim staffell
I might be at a table
And suddenly Ill catch
A fleeting vision of her crystal seas
Or I might be standing in a crowded dockyard faraway
Underneath the sun Ive never seen
cos I have seen many worlds
For what its worth
But Ill never see again the planet earth
My earth
I might be chasing waves of light
Out towards the rim
Where stars are sparse
And the cold of space seeps in
But I might be in a bar room
Drinking methylated gin
And thinking of the places I have been
Yes I have seen many worlds
For what its worth
But Ill never see again the planet earth
My earth
I have seen many worlds
For what its worth
But Ill never see again the planet earth
My earth
Cast adrift amongst the stars
I float from sun to sun
Dreaming of the world that gave me birth
All the places I have been
Remind me there is none
To match the green living hills of earth
cos I have seen many worlds
For what its worth
But Ill never see again the planet earth
My earth
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wheels Are Turning
Written by gerry beckley and dewey bunnell, 1998
Found on human nature.
Albuquerque will be there in the morning
Purple mountains will rise up from the floor
After that you can just lift up the curtain
And the whole world will be there at your door
Down the road you see the heat waves a waving
All the signs are telling you where to go
And for you, this is a bold invitation
Its all you need, you dont need any more
Those wheels are turning once again
Now the sun is rising out of the ocean
Diesel trucks are flying by on the shore
Yes thats your spirit inside you just waiting
Its time to move, now that much you must know
Step outside and take a breath of the morning (step outside the door)
And the wind will tell you which way to go
You are the needle on the compass for certain
The missing map has come back to your door
Those wheels are turning once again
Thunder in the canyon waking up the night (waking up the night)
Black crow with an indigo glow on the highway
Albuquerque will be there in the morning
Purple mountains will rise up from the floor
After that you can just lift up that curtain
And the whole world will be there at your door
Those wheels are turning once again
Thunder in the canyon waking up the night (waking up the night)
Black crow with an indigo glow on the highway
Barking in the canyon waking up the night
Black crow with an indigo glow on the highway
Those wheels are turning once again
Theyve always been your truest friend
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So called...
was called
was calling for too long
was called far too much
was summoned in a song
was squatted in a touch
was whispered through the storm
was craving the deepest word
was calling voices warm
was not left to die unheard
was cherished cave deep darkness
was lit up in a flame
was given in a smileness
a long forgotten name
was picked up from the floor
was hung onto the wall
was asked to be no more
the haunt of a dead long call
was made a picture map
was given a nice warm hand
was never allowed to slap
but a handshake to befriend
was taken down to earth
was given flesh and bone
was never killed at birth
was never left alone
was never dying nameless
left in tokens of a desire
was never burned quite blameless
it lived on sacred fire
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Not For that City
Not for that city of the level sun,
Its golden streets and glittering gates ablaze—
The shadeless, sleepless city of white days,
White nights, or nights and days that are as one—
We weary, when all is said , all thought, all done.
We strain our eyes beyond this dusk to see
What, from the threshold of eternity
We shall step into. No, I think we shun
The splendour of that everlasting glare,
The clamour of that never-ending song.
And if for anything we greatly long,
It is for some remote and quiet stair
Which winds to silence and a space for sleep
Too sound for waking and for dreams too deep.
poem by Charlotte Mary Mew
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Sunny Son
As I was cleaning up some old papers, I found this written by me long back. Not sure if I wrote this for my son or daughter.
***********************
In the depth of darkness sleeps the earth
Peace blanketed all around its girth
Sunlight starts its daily birth
Tickles the earth in its womb basket!
Earth wriggles in its cosy bed
Cool winds blow in its curvy head
Sunlight starts kicking in more
Shudders the Earth; Birds fly in furore!
Earth wakes up; its eyes all red
Pain enters; Peace thrown by the side
Piercing lights make the sun birth due
Pleasant sun emerges; but it is blue!
Time goes by; blue becomes white
Earth smiles at its sun’s sight
In all its glory sun shines bright
A new sun; A new day for us to fight!
-TBT
poem by TheBigThinkg Human
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Paradise Found
I am lost inside
A world of my own,
A world that I painted inside of my thoughts
Within a figment of my imagination-
I have taken myself on a journey to a place
I call paradise-
Inside this place I call paradise
I am lost,
Inside this place I call paradise,
I am alone-
Surrounded by trees and mountains,
Violet in hue – wildflowers would grow and
Grass grows high, caressing my ankles
In an almost loving way-
Inside the world of my thoughts
I step inside this paradise I have found and as I
Lose myself within a dream,
In less than a moment’s time,
My imagination has succumbed
To this magical land of my delusions-
Towards this place where I shall forever remain-
I am lost, I am alone but here in this place I call paradise,
Surrounded by trees and mountains,
Violet in hue and where wildflowers grow and
Grass grows high-
In a strange sort of way, I am not really alone-
I have my thoughts, my dreams and my fantasies and
The voices only I can hear are my constant companions-
Birds, trees and forget-me- knots are truly my friends-
In all actuality, I am no longer lost as
I was in that world outside of my dreams
Within that world into which I was born-
In that world where people have always hurt, betrayed and lied to me-
It was inside that world I was truly lost and alone-
I shall never return to that world.
I have lost myself within a dream and in truth,
I have finally found who I truly am and as I listen to the singing
Of the nightingale, the water rushing in the creek below,
A gentle breeze rustling the leaves upon the trees and
As I watch the sun ascend over the mountains,
The deer running freely and
I begin to sing a song of freedom and peace of mind-
Now I know the true meaning of loss and loneliness-
That is being trapped inside a world laden with myriads of people
Who have and shall always hurt and betray one another, as
Every moment in time rapidly advances too fast to control-
As I glance upward towards this sky of azure-blue,
I lock that phantasmal door that separates fantasy from reality-
Delighted to say that this fantasy has become my new reality and
I have found myself within the world of my dreams,
Surrounded by trees and mountains, violet in hue and
Where wildflowers grow plentifully and
When the sun descends behind the mountains and darkness overcomes
Here in my paradise- I can begin to count the stars and
Dance with the moon on the horizon- to the tune of
The singing of the nightingale-alive in my very own heaven and paradise,
Not lost but found and never again alone-
Here inside the world of my fantasies,
Where I have been reborn, within this magical land of my dreams,
Where I shall always sing a song of freedom as I joyfully wish upon a star-
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Teething Thoughs....
the white pigeons
find their home inside
the ceiling of this
house
every night i hear their
moaning sounds
they're like the weeping willows
meeting the winds from the far away mountains
there is a packet of winds
trapped in this room
forming a whirl
soon the walls shall tremble
something must give way
to a storm
lest these windows break
frames dismantled
to give birth to a pair of eyes
that will not flicker when it starts
to stare to the sun
or waver to the salt of the earth
these tongues of the twines
these teething thoughts
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Are Not Alone
you are not alone: for he is by your side
you are not alone: no matter how hard you try.
and for what it's worth,
He has been with you since your date of birth.
and HE was there when you was baptized with water
and taught you the LORDS order
some have called him JESUS
some have called him CHRIST
but no matter what you called him
you are not alone.
for he watches from his throne.
in his heart you have always been
since the day, that he wiped away your sins.
as long as you show your fellow man that you care
he will always be there.
as long as you believe in GOD up above
he will always give you his love.
and when you walk the road that's shown
you will never walk alone.
you are not alone
when life dishes you a wrong hand
that is all part of his plan.
to see if you have the faith in him
to take away your aches and pains
for with him you will never be the same.
as long as you have him in your heart and mind
he'll be there throughout all time.
He is there every step of every day
to show you the righteous way.
so do not stop, do not falter
for he is there at the altar.
give him thanks, and give him praise
that you're here another day.
'FOR YOU ARE NOT ALONE'.
poem by Louis Rams
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Heart Attack (a Sestina)
What angelic chorals sing?
These messengers of heaven
Whose words are none of earth
Rising like mists amid the mountains
Rolling down to pastoral valleys
Stirring my fragile heart
My sullen, throbbing heart
Mumbling, for it can't quite sing
Its beat more full of valleys
Than peaks toward heaven
I miss those tracings in the shape of mountains
Which anchor me to this earth
Sweet, sweet earth
How you fill my heart!
Your noble, snowy mountains
Rising proudly to sing
At the feet of heaven
I long to see your valleys
To lay again in flowered valleys
Smelling the rich, black earth
Of my own personal heaven
Heal you traitorous heart!
I long to shout, to sing
Echoing from the mountains
Where are my mountains?
My rolling valleys?
The monitor, its dirge to sing
Strengthening my tether to earth
Even as my woefully tired heart
Slips to heaven
To forestall heaven
I labor to move mountains
As a constellation of disks record my heart
Etching flat valleys
Confirming i am still of this earth
With only a beep to mournfully sing
Each lull-to heaven, then up from the valleys
Drawn back to mountains and earth
As I wait for my heart to once again sing
poem by John Christensen
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