September, The First Day Of School
I
My child and I hold hands on the way to school,
And when I leave him at the first-grade door
He cries a little but is brave; he does
Let go. My selfish tears remind me how
I cried before that door a life ago.
I may have had a hard time letting go.
Each fall the children must endure together
What every child also endures alone:
Learning the alphabet, the integers,
Three dozen bits and pieces of a stuff
So arbitrary, so peremptory,
That worlds invisible and visible
Bow down before it, as in Joseph's dream
The sheaves bowed down and then the stars bowed down
Before the dreaming of a little boy.
That dream got him such hatred of his brothers
As cost the greater part of life to mend,
And yet great kindness came of it in the end.
II
A school is where they grind the grain of thought,
And grind the children who must mind the thought.
It may be those two grindings are but one,
As from the alphabet come Shakespeare's Plays,
As from the integers comes Euler's Law,
As from the whole, inseperably, the lives,
The shrunken lives that have not been set free
By law or by poetic phantasy.
But may they be. My child has disappeared
Behind the schoolroom door. And should I live
To see his coming forth, a life away,
I know my hope, but do not know its form
Nor hope to know it. May the fathers he finds
Among his teachers have a care of him
More than his father could. How that will look
I do not know, I do not need to know.
Even our tears belong to ritual.
But may great kindness come of it in the end.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Howard Nemerov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Three children
Three little children.
One with a home.
One sitting on a thrown.
The last child only skin and bones.
One child lives happily with his family.
One child sits alone; his family won’t spare the time
The last child watches his mother die.
One child has a few new toys.
One child has the best toys anyone can imagine.
The last child plays with sticks and stones.
One child attends public school.
One child stays home and studies alone.
The last child has to cook and has never opened a book.
The children become men.
One man is off to war.
One man is sitting behind a jail door.
The last man is very far from poor.
poem by Yvette Carbajal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home is the first school and mother is the first teacher
Home is the first school and mother is the first teacher
Parents are the builder of children’s characters and minds,
The mother won’t be a fighter but should be a well preacher,
If she is an illiterate she must carry her children to tuition,
Howsoever the mother should educate their children first,
And she should send her children to school daily and regularly,
Teachers are not blamed not to fulfil children’s educational thirst,
Both the parents and teachers should make them the best citizens,
As we can’t work with one hand likewise we can’t walk with one leg,
Hence, parents and teachers are the same faces of the same coin,
If parents and teachers do them careless they suffer in life to beg,
Do well and have well it is said to see your own profit in life or ruin,
That is why parents and teachers are the best artists of the child,
If an art is spoilt the statue of the child looks like an ugly and a wild.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
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Chidren Of Abraham
Our Father is the father of all fathers.
Our Father is Abraham’s Father.
Our Father is John’s Father.
Our Father is Joseph’s Father.
Our Father is Jesus’ Father.
Our Father is Paul’s Father.
Jesus would thank our Father for placing the secrets of heaven inside children.
I can be 20 and you can be 105.
We all are nothing but children in Gods perfect eyes.
Children symbolizes no worries,
Matthew Ch 6 v.25-34.
Children symbolizes love,
Matthew Ch5 v.43-48.
Children becomes the salt of the world,
Matthew Ch 5 v.13.
The salt is what makes the world taste good.
The salt are us the children of Abraham,
John,
Joseph,
Paul,
Jesus,
And the children of the Father of all fathers.
Jesus loves the youth so much.
Matthew Ch 19 v.14 Jesus said “the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these”,
Meaning the children.
Matthew Ch 18 v.3” I tell you the truth,
Unless you change and become like children,
You will never enter the kingdom of heaven”.
Are we not children in the Fathers eyes?
Did the Father of all fathers not tell Jesus these things,
John Ch8 v.40?
Do we fall and make mistakes as little children?
Dose a good parent forgives their child after a child apologizes to them?
Dose a child builds in growth when the child cries and stops?
Dose discipline corrects the child when the child shows out?
Many would say “I pay the bills,
Therefore I am grown”,
But dose our Father God pay the bills still or is it the ones who claims their grown?
To the ones who claim their grown of course you put childish things away and you think as an adult,
But I ask you before the world dies and becomes consumed by the dark are you still a child at heart?
Matthew Ch18 v.3,
Children of Abraham please take heed.
Before Jesus returns and awaken all who are sleep.
Pleases realize and see that we all are children.
I may pay bills and work 24/7 with a complete high school education,
But still I teach those who are younger then me about the mercy of Jesus.
By playing video games and watching wrestling and cartoons on television with them.
The children by me already loves our Father Gods poetry.
Me being by their side talking and listing to them makes them smile.
I teach them what I know and I let them know that there’s nothing they can’t ask me about.
I enjoy laughing with them the kids as well,
Because I too am nothing but a child.
poem by Raff Rafael
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The Single Father
I was a single father raising my child
It had been hard for quite a while.
Having my parents watch him during the day
And no other child with which to play.
I would walk in the door and he
would jump with joy, this was my little boy.
I would give him horsy back rides
And he would laugh until he cried.
We would play “ hide n seek”
And thru his fingers he would peek.
Then we’d run around playing tag
He’d laugh so hard that he would gag.
He had such a shrilling laugh
That the gasses I would pass.
Then he’d laugh even harder
This is my son, and I his father.
Now he is in school learning to read and write
And his grades are dynamite.
I come home from work and still
Make time to play.
And I thank GOD for him every day.
A father and son playing together
In this life what can be better?
It can be better when you have
a boy and girl to share your life.
The boy will go thru cuts and scrapes
And she will go thru satin and lace.
She will pick out her own dress to wear
And certain secrets with you she’ll share.
She will play with her dolls and toys
And capture the hearts of all the boys
She will become the soft side of you
For this is what little girls do.
So to all the single fathers still out there
This is my poem with you I’ll share.
Not many fathers will accept responsibilities
But there are some out there like you and me.
poem by Louis Rams
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The Child
From pillar to post,
Some couples go,
In trying to have,
A child of their own!
They go on pilgrimages,
And they pray to God;
They donate money,
Expecting a child!
They see horoscopes;
They see the stars-position in the sky!
They do repentance,
To get a child!
They see the best doctors,
And undergo medical check-ups;
Some go abroad
For gift of child!
Some seek the help of science,
And try the latest advances;
But only a few
Manage to have a child!
Some give up every hope
And adopt a child;
Some remain childless
Until their death.
God gives children to so many,
And denies the same to some;
Some foolishly abort,
Invoking wrath of God!
Some beat the child;
Some enslave it;
Some starve it long;
Some neglect the child!
God’s sends nature’s furies –
Floods, quakes, famines, diseases,
Destroying people
Who kill children!
Child – the gift of God;
Child – a miracle;
Child – the joy of mankind;
Child – progeny of the human race!
Child – the love of God;
Child – mercy of God;
Child – grace of God;
Child – blessing of God!
A child makes the family wholesome;
A child ushers immense joy;
A child makes life worth living for;
A child is a divine toy!
God gives a child with ease;
Man drives it to disease;
God makes a life anew;
Man ends most lives but few!
Why kill children?
Why maim the tiny tots?
Why abuse children?
Why destroy lives, God-made?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-18-2008
poem by John Celes
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The Story Of Nevermore
now I cast a hypnotic spell
to free a child from her hell
surrender now child fall deep in my spell
just come to me child and all will be well
rise now child in sleep you now come
walk now child thought your scenes stay numb
fall now child in to a peaceful dream
but nothing there is as it seems
even thought child in you dream all is right
really your body walks still throw the night
relax now child let that dream ease your mind
follow now child let my voice be your guild
don’t worry child my intentions are pure
you’ll be happy with me of that I am sure
I’m just so tired of being alone
I want a child all of my own
so sleepwalk now child to the pull of my charm
sleepwalk to me child you’ll be safe in my arms
nevermore child shall you cry out in pain
your old life will be lost but a new one will be gained
sleepwalk to me child you’ll be my daughter soon
find your way to me child by the light of the moon
sleepwalk to me child and I’ll show you my ways
all the things I can show you; you’ll be amazed
sleepwalk to me child your almost here
come to me child soon all will be clear
sleepwalk to me child come meet your new mom
soon the whole world will rest in your palm
I see you now child I have you in sight
I run to you child now all is right
your eyes are dazed child unseeing and blank
I can see you now child what a great daughter you’ll make
come to me child collapse in my arms
come to me child you’re safe now from harm
I hold you now child and cradle you close to my heart
I hum to you child as I carry you throw the dark
were home now dear child far from all you ones knew
were home now dear child only one thing left to do
I made this child a special potion just for you
and with it your life begins anew
drink this now child and let your past slip away
remember not one second not one moment or one day
your eyes close child as I release you from my spell
in conciseness you do not dwell
back in to slumber you fall ever so deep
I love how innocent you look in sleep
a new name you need child to mark your new life
you need a new name as you exist the light
your name is Nevermore My child Raven Nevermore
a name like none ever heard before
you are Raven Nevermore
a young witch of great power to explore
you are Raven Nevermore
my daughter now and evermore
poem by Raven Nevermore
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Where Is The Child?
love is blind,
life is wild,
death is wide,
where is the child?
hatred everywhere,
badness fills the air,
life is so unfair,
where is the child?
no one is funny,
bees make no honey,
everyone is running after money,
where is the child?
hearing no good voice,
there is much noise,
by a freaky gang of boys,
where is the child?
no one is having a good dream,
everyone wants to scream,
there is no more white cream,
where is the child?
purity is gone,
children have no fun,
badness is now in everyone,
where is the child?
there is no more respectable art,
no real love in any heart,
sadness in every part,
where is the child?
where is the child?
where is the child?
poem by Sarah Abu Zeid
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Freedom Isn't Free...
Who says our freedom is free? Not Me.
True, We are freer than most, but not enough,
that we should boast.
Before you say Freedom is free, stop and count the cost
of all the lives lost,
Freedom isn't free, when there's killing in our streets.
Freedom isn't free, to the Soldier that is waiting to be shipped over seas.
Freedom isn't free, with the pain, he or she is feeling inside, with
the thought of having to leave they're loved one's behind, and
it hurts so bad that it brings them to their knees.
Freedom isn't free, when your living in uncertainty.
Freedom isn't free, having to say good-bye, to a loved one that
is going off to war.Freedom isn't free, to a soldier who is on the front lines, knowing he or she, could die anytime.
Freedom isn't free when your lying in bed,
waiting and wondering, if you'll ever see your loved ones alive again.
Freedom isn't free, when a little child crys in the night,
for his or her Mommy and Daddy, and they're not there to hold them close, and comfort them, and to ease their fears, and wipe away they're tears. And all those in all the other wars, and the lives that are still being lost at this very moment.
Do you still say Freedom is free?
Freedom isn't free, when a Soldier is wounded in battle.
When news reaches, Family and friends at home,
And their told that their Soldier is wounded far beyond repair,
The loss and pain felt can not compare.
Freedom isn't free, with all those many Soldiers that wished they
had died because of all the pain in their broken up bodies.
Freedom isn't free, when your lying in bed, and you hear that dreaded
tap on your door.And you pray to God that you were only having a bad dream.
Freedom isn't free when you open the door and listen to the
bugle play, and you feel a sudden chill.
Everything goes still.
Freedom isn't free, when there is a Flag being draped
over a coffin, of a Brother, Sister, or a friend.
Freedom isn't free, when you think of all the children,
of the mothers and the wives, of Fathers, sons and husbands, whose
lives have been interrupted.
Freedom isn't free, when you think about the graveyard at the
bottom of the sea, of the unmarked graves in Arlington.
Who say's Freedom is Free? Not Me!
Written 7/23/008
BY Nora Eason
poem by Nora Eason
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Lifesong
to a child very young
life is
happiness and fun
to a child getting bigger
life and school
seem to be getting bitter
to a child growing up
life and love
seem to be getting mixed up
to a child fully grown
life is about
making choices on your own
to a child with a child
life is about
making sure there life isn't wild
to a child getting old
life is about
keeping your family out of the cold
to a child old and grey
life is about
remembering the past things you used to say
to a child dead and gone
life was about
your one lifesong
poem by No Reason To Care
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Do not DELETE this or ABORT
an original from Don Allan Dinio
Every time a child is conceived,
a new life just blooms. It's God's gift!
Every time a baby is born,
another cycle of life just began. Angelic!
The very first time the baby cries,
a miracle just happened. Majestic!
The mystery in this child's life just started.
That is just wonderful!
I know you say that it is your choice but
don't forget it's the baby's ~ right to live!
Please do not DELETE this off your mind.
You got to think hard to do or not to do it.
The pressure is on you. Your life.
It is your pride versus the baby's right.
You got to ponder how in the world can you
afford to raise this child? Will you
sacrifice your future and the rest of your
life for the terrible quick mistake you made?
What kind of life would this child have?
The child is there...let him live!
The child could be a genius, a scientist,
the next president or an astrounaut.
That is just wishful thinking!
But does that really matter?
Remember, this child is your flesh and blood.
It is part of you!
Who knows this child might even save your life and many more.
Please do not ABORT!
Fifteen years from now the child will be a teenager.
Later on will be a young adult and shape his own life.
This child will be part of your joys and happiness,
fears and tears, more worries and some and more.
What child would he be? - so you may ask.
You begin to worry and it can get scary.
Life's influences on this child are so varied and many.
The friends and acquaintances the child may befriend
have tremendous effect of what he will become.
His toys, his hobbies, and his peers,
you, and the family and life as a whole
will be part of this child's personality.
This child will be fine, don't worry!
Let this one live.
Please do not DELETE this off your mind.
Thirty years or so from now this child will be a fully grown person.
This child will have a personality of his own.
This child might or could have accomplished something
really great that you can be proud of.
This child might or could done something terrible too
and you would have said and say to yourself...
'If only I knew! '
But don't take it as your fault. He is what he will become!
No one knows the future.
You should be proud you gave this child...
a choice to live instead ~
You did not ABORT!
Twenty some years ago, there was this young lady
who got pregnant and was left on her own
by someone she thought loves her and
will marry her and will live happily ever after. Huh?
DELETE that!
She thought long and hard what to do
with her pregnancy...the baby!
She was worried to death of her future,
her pride, the baby's future...just like you.
It was a tough decision, a life and death choice
to make and the baby's right to live.
This lady made the right choice -
she gave birth to her baby...a lovely beautiful baby
and turned out to be a fine lady,
a good daughter ~ You!
Please return the favor, do not ABORT!
poem by Don Allan Dinio
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Children?
Children are the easily led,
Their learning is profound,
Their lift is happy and proud,
Why do parents forgive them?
We produce the fellow children
To lift and uplift each of us
When there happens a life.
Children need growth to boast,
To live and outlive, to death is their journey
After a life of straightforward happiness and bliss.
Felt good? Why children? Because, say Children,
We live among others who are like the mothers
In the land we call Children.
Child after child shall learn of the existing ones
That need admirals and generals of late.
The defence of a child is the greatest concern,
And I laugh at one who destroys life,
Ever in turmoil is a child because of this act.
Children will be enough to be today.
Children can upset no one who is old and ancient,
Selfless students are children.
However much you push and pull at the threads that children weave
And sort, and spread, and sew,
The adult will sew better and more often than a child.
That is the secret, children.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Our Child
this is our child.
not just yours or mine
but everyones, that are born in our time.
a child is born every minute around this world
beautiful boys and girls.
these children are gifts from god.
and he has chosen you to be the one
who will carry the daughter or son
look into any childs face and you will see
that they belong to you and me.
the child has a bit of all humanity
this is the way god meant it to be.
these are the children of peace
the children of love
given to us from god above.
.
i read in the papers of childrens lives taken
because of anger, fear, sickness and hate.
lets stop them before it too late
put them in jail and throw away the key.
just so that children can sleep peacefully.
if as a child you was abused, neglected, and not loved
then it's time for you to change your life around
and not let these children die on the ground.
stand up and fight, and take
pride in what you do.
the child you save, could have been you.
poem by Louis Rams
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I was a Child
I was not the one
Who killed my father
I was quite young
When he died.
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
They say he loved me
Willed me grow great
He played with me
We sang in the eves.
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
We hoped for brightness
And for tomorrow
Then he slumped
To breathe his last.
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
Dirge for me I pray
Papa lives no longer
Beady salt water drops
From my sockets.
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
Things happened fast
Leaving me stunned
I racked my brain
I rack it still.
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
I cling onto mama
Perhaps she'll keep
Will console me well
For days gone by.
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
I search her eyes
To find some faith
She must stay here
Ever at my side.
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
She too escapes
Abandons me quick
I am raw and untaught
I have learned no trade.
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
My father's brothers
Like not my face
Gang together, they say
We must squelch him.
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
He must not be great
Like his father
How he struts
Like the old block!
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
This chip will be a cyber
If we lag and tarry
Hound him like the jackal
Aim at his blood.
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
I run fast and scurrily
I fain would live
Great to be like papa
Greater even than he.
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
Now I am a man
I truly can know
I am not too dazed
Even to think.
I was a child, what could I know
I was too dazed even to think
poem by Samuel Munachim
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THIS IS OUR WORLD! ! (SHOCKING n EXPLICIT)
Where a child lives in a warm mother's cocoon
Where a child is sold to the prostitutes, her life doomed
Where a father fiercely protects his child
Yet another father enters another's child
Where children play without any fear
Where men enter boys through the rear
Where a child gets a new toy every day
Where a child becomes a toy near the bay
Where a child is whooped up and twirled
Where a child is forced down and hurled
Where they go to fancy schools, sing and play
Where for a single meal, they sweat and labour all day
poem by Renu Rakheja
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He...a father...an insentient.
He is a father,
Walking door to door,
Running here and there,
Begging the sympathy,
Ragging his own,
Only for his child,
Who is now in coma,
Fighting with death,
He...a father...an insentient.
He is a father,
Staring at the body,
His eyes are foggy and wet,
That body belongs to his son,
Who is now past only,
Only for a few dollars,
Or for a sympathy of kind hearts,
He...a father...an insentient.
He is not alone,
Lots like him around us,
Waiting for our hands,
Seeking for our helps,
He can not but cry,
He is so incapable,
Only see his child to loose,
Far away from him,
He...a father...an insentient.
You, me, anyone of us,
Would be one like him,
Please raise our hands,
Save a life of a child,
Not for the sake of god,
Not for him or his child,
Just for us, our child,
Not let them to die for dollars,
Not let to sigh and cry,
Any man of poverty like him,
He...a father...an insentient.
poem by Kafil Uddin Raihan.
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Father Time
(sambora, child)
Father time
I couldnt make her wanna stay
I couldnt seem to find the words to say
Now I have to live in yesterday
Father time
I thought that you were on my side
I thought that I could keep our love alive
I thought that I could keep her satisfied
The clock keeps tickin and I keep on thinkin bout you
Im knockin at the door of your heart but I cant break through
Father time
Grant me just another day
Of our love I tried to make her stay
Father time
Dont tell me its too late
All my life you know that I would wait
Father time
Now shes gone
She didnt even say goodbye
I guess she didnt have the heart to try
She didnt even have the guts to lie
Father time
Only you can turn the page
And close the curtain on this empty stage
Only you can take my pain away
My heart keeps breakin and my body keeps aching for you
Its time to hold on but theres nothin left to hold on to
Father time
Grant me just another day
Of our love I tried to make her stay
Father time
Dont tell me its too late
All my life you know that I would wait
Father time
Father, father cant you see Im depending on you
Im dying at the door to your heart and I cant break through
Father time
Grant me just another day
Of our love I tried to make her stay
Father time
Dont tell me its too late
All my life you know that I would wait
Father time
Shes your child make her mine
Father time
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Children Are Innocent
Children learn how to play games,
to survive and get our way
but there is got to be a better “way”.
For why should a child have
to “play” an adult to get it’s way?
We set it up like that thinking
we will turn them into a brat.
but that is not where it should be at.
That is not like Sri Amma Bhagavan’s school,
if most of the world only knew.
Now why can’t kid’s be free to
Experience everything?
Treat them like a Prince, a Queen
or a King?
We make up rules and
stupid laws,
to make us like cattle
just because.
We are afraid
we’ll lose control
control of a child?
I don’t think so.
Children are emotional beings
till at least eight,
why not let them “experience”
life and make them feel great?
They “play mind” games
like the adults do,
but they learn from us I believe that’s true.
We use the word “no”
as a form of control.
We don’t know any better,
we were taught the Planetary dream,
making a child feel guilty,
and then feel demeaned.
Now “no” can be changed
around to be a “yes”
now the child “feels” love
and feels like the best.
Now of course you wouldn’t
let your child do something
harmful that’s true,
but I’m talking about “Can
the child have the red book
over the one that’s “blue”.
Written by Christina Sunrise on April 18,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Colors Of The Sun
Colors of the sun
Flashing on the water top
Echo on the land
Picking for a coin
Many other tiny worlds
Singing past my hand
Awake to understand you are not dreaming
It is not seaming just to be this way
Dying men draw numbers in the air
Dream to conquer little bits of time
Scuffle with the crowd to get their share
And fall behind their little bits of time
Voices in the air
Sympathetic harmony
Coming from the trees
Hanging at my door
Many shiny surfaces
Clinging in the breeze
Oh, leave me where I am I am not losing
If I am choosing not to plan my life
Disillusioned savior search the sky
Wanting to just to show someone the way
Asking all the people passing by
Doesnt anybody want the way
I say goodbye to joseph and maria
They think I see another sky
And from my fallen window I still see them
Ill never free them from the sky
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tis a Selfish World Mostly
Who can deny the fact that we live in
A selfish world generally, to the core?
This is the all-pervading common sin
That can be found in homes most, door to door!
All persons want the best in life always,
And do not care about the next at all;
Most want to pass just care-free, risk-free days,
Appearing deaf to conscience's clarion call!
Most mothers want to choose the child that's born,
Aborting ones they feel are ‘unwanted';
Sex is a shameless game from dusk to dawn;
Most live a stupid life almost haunted!
‘Pro-choice' mothers say, ‘children have no rights! '
And more so, when it comes to unborn child;
Selfishness rules the roost most days and nights,
While realizing dreams that turn so wild!
This tendency prevails all through their lives,
But senescence puts them in piteous state;
For money's sake, most homes become bee-hives,
And heinous crimes and vice become a spate!
Even the Maker is forgotten fast,
As selfishness fills body, mind and heart;
And very soon, virtues turn things of past,
As life becomes a shameful, sinful cart!
Ev'n marriage is unspared right from the start;
One's freedom infringes upon the next;
Mal-adjustments stay until they depart,
And life's puzzle leaves all utterly vexed!
Selfishness finds its way in every age,
And no one can take steps to mitigate;
Defeated fully in the wars they wage,
Most people finally call it their ‘fate! '
This world can't be a better place this way,
Till all mankind gives up its selfish ways!
Will God usher a better, newer day?
Man is the real culprit/cause always!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-7-12
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children Of The Moment
CHILDREN OF THE MOMENT
June 30th- July 1st,1983 2: 00 a.m. – 4: 30 a.m.
Children of the moment, everywhere you look,
You see the visions of the world as it once was.
Clouds hide the light,
of the reflection of a star,
As it shone two thousand years ago. Light years away.
Children of the morning, everywhere it’s spring,
And you see new life all around you, as the old life’s passed away.
The leaves of yesteryear have died,
beneath the winter’s snow, now gone,
revealing seeds reborn. The promise lives.
Children of the music, everywhere you turn,
You hear the rhythm of a song that has no end.
Whispered in the wind,
And on the water, voiceless words of love,
Transcending all that is, and is to be.
Time after time, you hear the call,
The gentle beckoning.
But walking in your sleep you disregard.
In you mind, you rationalize,
The mysteries of your heart.
Don’t fall………flights of fantasy.
Don’t fall………the ice is oh so thin.
Don’t fall………the slender thread of time,
That flies more swiftly than you realize.
You must learn to see without your eyes.
Try to see beyond the veil of stars.
Believing in the obvious, yet unseen might.
Children of the fountain, watering the ground.
Children of the mountain, take a look around.
Children of the earth, children of the sky.
Children of the Father can help you realize.
Time…….after time.
Children of the Father, everywhere you go,
You see the tears of those who roam this planet lost.
Standing on the cosmic shore,
They’re staring out to sea,
Awaiting rescue from the stars. ………an S.O.S.
Time after time,
You throw the lifeline, but they turn away.
They feel your end is weighted with a stone.
But ignorance is no defence, it hurts to see them drown.
Don’t cry, because they won’t believe.
Don’t cry, you word contains a seed.
Don’t cry, remember winter’s snows,
That melt, revealing seeds reborn in hope.
You must learn that faith is eyeless sight.
Believing in the obvious yet unseen might.
Perceiving love beyond the veil of starry skies.
Children of the hypocrite, can see the truth in lies.
Children of the infidel, draw sympathetic eyes.
Child of the saint, may grow confused, outside his door.
But in his heart he knows there’s a reward worth waiting for.
Children of the liar, wake yourselves and rise.
Children of the fire, aren’t blinded by you lies.
Children of the ancient will one day dry their tears.
Children of forever need never count the years.
Children of tomorrow may never get the chance,
As spring becomes the fall, to see the seasons as they dance.
Child of the soldier knows that freedom’s bought with pain.
Children of the empire will send them back again, and again.
poem by Albert Ralph
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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