Today All Days
Magnolias budding bright and healthy
pink polkadot blossoms bandaging
barren branches recovering winter wounds
sun's handless bareskin caress
may its passive presence
power me through the darkest of days
the concrete takes on a phantom blue hue
every priceless pebble a shimmering
speck of sunstruck jewel
each spear of grass
a single point
symbolizing
sentient unification
of all seemingly
separate suchness
today all days
time and eternity
intersect
beautiful birth of
the moment
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Related quotes
Jewel
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
For your today's handsome
Thanks her for bye-gone days rebuke
For you are not the glory call short
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
For making your shoulders wings
That now in the sky like birds
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
For being a witch to make you rein
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
For being unkind for your kindness
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
..hawking locust'eans for you not to...
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
For burning extra woods
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
For being blind for your goodness
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
For ashes for your existence
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
Children with a piece of brain
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
All ye children!
That's of an ovule conceived
Always thanks your jewel
Whenever comes that memoir
That can't be erased in life dairy
In it death life call on her to dine
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
Ne'er speaks of her a broken lips
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
Always let her know, she's worth living
For all her yesteryear year fire bath
Are thy today's concrete
Say a big thanks to thy jewel
Wherever she is
poem by sanusi samuel Akanni
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Today A Back To Winter Day
Today a back to Winter day a chill is in the breeze
In early Spring in Victoria we do get days of under fifteen degrees
Today between the heavy showers a brief burst of sunshine
Yet compared to the heavy rains of yesterday today seems even fine.
September came in with a sunny smile only twelve days ago
But the past few days seem so different it seems cold enough to snow
Old Winter goes into early Spring some have been known to say
In that assumption there's some truth or so 'twould seem that way.
A pair of young red wattlebirds out of their nest unable yet to fly
Their parents utter their warning cries if danger lurks nearby
Each passing hour to them makes a difference tomorrow they might enjoy
With the help of their strengthening wings the freedom of the sky.
Today a back to Winter day though bursts of sunshine between the showers
And raindrops glittering in the sun on the beautiful wildflowers
Old Winter goes into early Spring and a chill is in the breeze
Though frail pink blossoms are in bloom on the nectarine trees.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Stars in the Sky
Stars, in the sky
So bright, so beautiful,
Want to touch them,
Wish I could fly
Their proximity is deceiving,
Although many light years away,
I’d do anything to see them,
I could watch them all day
Just a collapsing cloud,
Their sheer presence in the sky,
Gives personality to a dead night,
Portraying its beauty,
It is no longer shy
Stars, in the sky
So bright, so beautiful,
Want to touch them,
Wish I could fly
They are seen everywhere,
Populating the vast sky,
Priceless, in their profound existence,
So close, but yet so far, and so high
Emanating purity and power,
On a dark, clear night,
The sky blossoms like a flower
Indeed, Stars in the sky
So bright, so beautiful,
I want to touch them,
Wish I could fly
poem by Kevat B. Patel
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Oh Happy Days
Oh happy days,
Everyone likes you.
Oh happy days,
Please stay today.
Oh happy days,
Sweet like honey.
Oh happy days,
loving family ties.
Oh happy days,
Giving us strength.
Oh happy days,
Children out playing.
Oh happy days,
On the green grass.
Oh happy days,
With boundless optimism.
Oh happy days,
I give thanks.
Oh happy days,
Dreaming for more.
Oh happy days,
Warm and bright.
Oh happy days,
Like love eternal.
Oh happy days,
And glad memories.
Oh happy days,
New hope prayers.
Oh happy days,
With smiling faces.
Oh happy days,
Holidays and health.
Oh happy days,
With close friends.
Oh happy days,
Generous and giving.
Oh happy days,
Shiny rainbow dreams.
Oh happy days,
Till the very end.
Oh happy days,
Always and forever.
Amen.
poem by Rowina Mallick
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The Darkest Days Song
In the winter we see
The darkest days
All the time
And the darkest days last longer in the winter
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Seasons
I
As if summer will never end
irises are everywhere in the garden
with opening flower after flower
in light yellow, deep purple and rust-brown.
The bright hot sun hangs day after day
in a cobalt blue sky and even carnations, geraniums
and flame lilies are showing their beauty,
are still holding onto summer.
Doves are still cooing in the oak tree,
their are finches and sparrows cavorting up and down
and it’s as if nature is thwarting autumn
while dew is still shining on the leaves in the mornings
until later the sky becomes dull blue
while the sun is getting much more faint.
II
Slowly the leaves are falling
descending in different colours,
in one’s and two’s and later in a bigger number
tree-trunks become dark brown, red and some pallid
until every tree but for those that are evergreen stand skeleton,
the birds that remain sit next to each other shivering,
wishing for the winter to past
having difficulty to find seeds and other food
and the cold winter wind blows through everything,
filling the air with whirling dust clouds
with stripped branches flinging up and down
and everywhere leaves and branches lie in a jumble
until the wind dies down and the morning fog hangs like vapour,
at times only at noon is dispersed by the sun.
III
Days are cold and grey while the sun hides,
with a owl hunting during the day
searching for hungry mice sneaking around in the yellow grass
and all other signs of animal life is missing
but for doves sitting here and there
on telephone wires,
in disconsolation staring into the distance
and early mornings the grass is covered with white ripe
and it is as if every flower succumbs,
is shrinking crumpled and are folding close
until the first spring rain comes suddenly,
with sprouts and buds appearing and new flowers folding open
when fruit trees are covered with white, pink and yellow blossoms
and the sudden beauty takes your breath away.
poem by Gert Strydom
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How beautiful! !
How beautiful this life is,
It keeps changing every moment
Welcome the new season
And forget the one that went
How beautiful this rain is
The sky is sprinkling love
Each heart is fluttering its wings
Like an innocent dove
How beautiful this moment is
It’s nothing on its own
But may grow into a great chronicle
The seed has just been sown
How beautiful this season is
Every flower is budding out
And my heart is blooming with them
After a long time of drought
How beautiful poetry is
That sitting at my office seat
I’m staring at the windows around
Just to make it complete; -)
How beautiful Sapient policy is
That you work on all 364 days
And don’t feel like doing it on one
In your manager’s books, it stays
How beautiful this industry is
It’s stays very kind with you
But it may kick you out
Suddenly out of the blue
How beautiful this conclusion is
It reflects my real pain
That I’m supporting my application
Even in this beautiful rain: -(.
poem by Vivek Mehta
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Now Summer is Here (from, Lead Sheets in July 2008)
Now summer is here
With moments fair and bright
Beautiful weather in the air
And hope around everywhere
A happy time together
With something new to sing
It couldn't become better
Then again what these days bring
The hours are coming clear
With blossoms growing wide
So much of pleasures near
And everywhere abide
With lovely days of July now
Any love could become true
And open up wishes somehow
Making them again bright new
Now summer is here
With beautiful gardens around
And fragrances in the air
That nowhere else is found
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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As the wind color our dream.....
waking is not the beginning of time, it’s the start of a
day; the end has just started another point, to a start, an
end to a new beginning of a wondeful and beautiful
moment of time
open up my eyes and waste no time to close, the day
has just started, and a glow of every memories never
return the passing moment of what was gone now, as it
has wondered each solitudes of time in the midst of
yesterday’s goodbye
such a dream, captured my past, dreaming to the
presence of my heart, pushing me to leave no cause to
surrender my day of what was yesterday’s gone,
happiness brought me to hold, to mirror of what was
the end, an end to scant and resolute the meaning of
you in my life
recollect my soul of the dream that i have to go, beneath
those vine of memories; cable my joy to reunite my joy
to the beginning of another moment to live in this
wonderful days of my existence, humble my dear heart to
rejuvenate the most exciting adventure of my moment
with you in my dream
passion as you takes the ruins of yesterday and brings
my beginning to stand with your wings of what the future
brings, the day of yesterday, is just a beginning of today
and the passing scene is what is to come for another day,
it’s today my dear
come take me to your rest and paint with your golden
brush the beginning of my life, always color as you’ll be
to sweeten the tomorrow's of today................
poem by Antonio Liao
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The Budding
The budding.
A rebirth of a season missed.
Spring arrives to lift spirits high.
Clear blue skies are witnessed...
As white clouds drift.
The budding.
Of flowers and grass and the leaves,
On Oak, Maple and Birch Trees.
Welcomes a lilting done of wind,
Introducing a Spring breeze to ease...
With a life that seems to be enjoyed again.
The budding.
Of familiar love known,
Yet hibernated in the Winter...
Amidst snow drifts.
And we smile and laugh and again forget,
That stress we welcomed to separate us...
From identifying those blessings,
That surrounds us to reach for complete happiness.
To explore and experience all of nature's treasures.
As Spring awakens with a freshness it brings.
With the budding, the blooming and the joy!
As Spring awakens with a freshness it brings.
With the budding, the blooming and the joy!
As Spring awakens with a freshness it brings.
With the budding.
The blooming done.
And the joy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Tendril’s Faith
Under the snow in the dark and the cold,
A pale little sprout was humming;
Sweetly it sang, ‘neath the frozen mold,
Of the beautiful days that were coming.
“How foolish your songs, ” said a lump of clay,
“What is there, I ask, to prove them?
Just look at the walls between you and the day,
Now, have you the strength to move them? ”
But under the ice and under the snow
The pale little sprout kept singing,
“I cannot tell how, but I know, I know,
I know what the days are bringing.”
“Birds, and blossoms, and buzzing bees,
Blue, blue skies above me,
Bloom on the meadows and buds on the trees,
And the great glad sun to love me.”
A pebble spoke next: “You are quite absurd.”
It said, “with your song’s insistence;
For I never saw a tree or a bird,
So of course there are none in existence.”
“But I know, I know, ” the tendril cried,
In beautiful sweet unreason;
Till lo! from its prison, glorified,
It burst in the glad spring season.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Moment To Moment
Written by gerry beckley and phil galdston, 1998
Found on human nature.
There was a time I knew
All that there was to know
No one could tell me then
I was wrong
I wasnt strong enough
To see where my weakness lay
The world that you hold so tight
Could slip away
And from moment to moment
Your life can change
Theres a storm over the horizon
A sea no one can see
Somewhere around the bend
Right when you least expect
Someone can walk away
With no regret
Leaving an empty space
Breaking a sacred trust
All of your shiny dreams
Begin to rust
Yes from moment to moment your life can change
Theres a storm over the horizon
The sea you cannot see
Yes from moment to moment
Promise me youll never change
Promise me youll stay the same
Promise me youll never change
Yes from moment to moment your life can change
Theres a storm over the horizon
A sea youll never see
Yes from moment to moment your life can change
Theres a light when the sun is rising
A day after today
Promise me youll never change (promise me youll never change)
Promise me youll stay the same (the same)
Promise me youll never change
Every moment is a shining light
Every moment is the darkest night
Every moment gotta get it right
Every single moment
Every moment is a shining light
Every moment is the darkest night
Every moment gotta get it right
Every moment is a shining light
Every moment is the darkest night
Every moment gotta get it right
Every single moment
Every moment is a shining light
Every moment is the darkest night
Every moment gotta get it right
Every single moment
(fade)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In California During the Gulf War
Among the blight-killed eucalypts, among
trees and bushes rusted by Christmas frosts,
the yards and hillsides exhausted by five years of drought,
certain airy white blossoms punctually
reappeared, and dense clusters of pale pink, dark pink--
a delicate abundance. They seemed
like guests arriving joyfully on the accustomed
festival day, unaware of the year's events, not perceiving
the sackcloth others were wearing.
To some of us, the dejected landscape consorted well
with our shame and bitterness. Skies ever-blue,
daily sunshine, disgusted us like smile-buttons.
Yet the blossoms, clinging to thin branches
more lightly than birds alert for flight,
lifted the sunken heart
even against its will.
But not
as symbols of hope: they were flimsy
as our resistance to the crimes committed
--again, again--in our name; and yes, they return,
year after year, and yes, they briefly shone with serene joy
over against the dark glare
of evil days. They are, and their presence
is quietness ineffable--and the bombings are, were,
no doubt will be; that quiet, that huge cacophany
simultaneous. No promise was being accorded, the blossoms
were not doves, there was no rainbow. And when it was claimed
the war had ended, it had not ended.
poem by Denise Levertov
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We favor the economic unification of Germany. If complete unification cannot be secured, we shall do everything in our power to secure the maximum possible unification.
quote by James F. Byrnes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Days
The old days--the far days--
The overdear and fair!--
The old days--the lost days--
How lovely they were!
The old days of Morning,
With the dew-drench on the flowers
And apple-buds and blossoms
Of those old days of ours.
Then was the _real_ gold
Spendthrift Summer flung;
Then was the _real_ song
Bird or Poet sung!
There was never censure then,--
Only honest praise--
And all things were worthy of it
In the old days.
There bide the true friends--
The first and the best;
There clings the green grass
Close where they rest:
Would they were here? No;--
Would _we_ were _there_!...
The old days--the lost days--
How lovely they were!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Celandine
Thinking of her had saddened me at first,
Until I saw the sun on the celandines lie
Redoubled, and she stood up like a flame,
A living thing, not what before I nursed,
The shadow I was growing to love almost,
The phantom, not the creature with bright eye
That I had thought never to see, once lost.
She found the celandines of February
Always before us all. Her nature and name
Were like those flowers, and now immediately
For a short swift eternity back she came,
Beautiful, happy, simply as when she wore
Her brightest bloom among the winter hues
Of all the world; and I was happy too,
Seeing the blossoms and the maiden who
Had seen them with me Februarys before,
Bending to them as in and out she trod
And laughed, with locks sweeping the mossy sod.
But this was a dream; the flowers were not true,
Until I stooped to pluck from the grass there
One of five petals and I smelt the juice
Which made me sigh, remembering she was no more,
Gone like a never perfectly recalled air.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Russell Kincaid
In the last spring I ever knew,
In those last days,
I sat in the forsaken orchard
Where beyond fields of greenery shimmered
The hills at Miller's Ford;
Just to muse on the apple tree
With its ruined trunk and blasted branches,
And shoots of green whose delicate blossoms
Were sprinkled over the skeleton tangle,
Never to grow in fruit.
And there was I with my spirit girded
By the flesh half dead, the senses numb
Yet thinking of youth and the earth in youth, --
Such phantom blossoms palely shining
Over the lifeless boughs of Time.
O earth that leaves us ere heaven takes us!
Had I been only a tree to shiver
With dreams of spring and a leafy youth,
Then I had fallen in the cyclone
Which swept me out of the soul's suspense
Where it's neither earth nor heaven.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Germinal
Welcome, welcome glorious March
Whose soggy kiss we yearn
To turn the days of darkness bright
And hearld spring's return
Let warming rain turn winter's grip awry
And thaw the frozen land
That life anew will bloom once more
When coax'd by April's hand
Oh sweet May with colours bold
Proclaiming spring's demise
As summer gently o'er takes
The flowerly portrait before our eyes
How I love the songs of spring
Merry tunes to one and all
Whom to winter is a blight
And lament the end of fall
So let budding spring abate clouds of gloom
As sunlight clears the way
For nature to revive again
The glad approach of summer days
poem by John A. Hancock
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So Very Busy
So very busy with so much to do, oh dear friend, if you only knew,
Knew how much God did care, and that in Jesus He’s always there.
Christ is with me throughout the day, helping me to discern the way,
The day can be very hectic friend, if time with God I do not spend.
The Lord helps me to prioritize, things of importance in His eyes.
When days get busy as can be, we can easily forget about eternity.
And our days are a means to an end, of an eternity we all will spend.
And friend our focus must coincide, with the Spirit who lives inside.
As we live out this earthly life, we must point men to Jesus Christ,
For life without Christ my friend, is a dark eternity that you’ll spend.
It’s the biggest priority in life; do you know The Lord Jesus Christ?
And if you know Jesus Christ, is His will a part of your daily life?
Satan wants to so fill our days, so Christ gets absolutely no praise.
He wants to overwhelm every hour, so that you’re devoid of power.
He doesn’t want found in your life, the presence or peace of Christ.
Satan wants to make you testimony, void and appear to be phony.
But Christ came to give unto me, a New Life and that abundantly.
An abundance of Peace by Christ, to be found displayed in my life.
And an abundance of His Power, to help me in every working hour.
Then at a busy day’s end, I can thank The Lord for being my friend.
(Copyright ©02/2005)
Puzzling
Calendar with days marked off…
Final day checked…
in blood-red ink marker mean
Then… no more marks…of any sort
The calendar antiseptically… cryptically clean…
Time seemingly now, no longer of import
What was coming, so anticipated…(Or dreaded) …
That the days after… the anointed day
Seemed of no consequence imbedded
Calendar yellowed and tattered
As if time no longer existed…
To a person… like you or me
And to whom days… no longer mattered
Then…Now…and for eternity
poem by David Whalen
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