Symbols
PALM Sunday at the Vatican
They celebrate with palms;
With reverence bows each holy man,
And chaunts the ancient psalms.
Those very psalms are also sung
With olive boughs in hand,
While holly, mountain wilds among,
In place of palms must stand:
In fine, one seeks some twig that's green,
And takes a willow rod,
So that the pious man may e'en
In small things praise his God.
And if ye have observed it well,
To gain what's fit ye're able,
If ye in faith can but excel;
Such are the myths of fable.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Related quotes
God Made A Covenant With Who Until Time Indefinite?
Sometimes the many
or the few must submit
to divine will of one.
You might have friends
in higher places
much higher than you think.
God made a covenant Genesis 15: 12-21.
with chosen children of Israel Exodus 19: 5.
to eternal time indefinite. Genesis 17: 18&19.35: 9-12.
Unlike some people
flesh delighting in own power
God cannot does not lie.
Therefore Israel trust not
in thy own bow thy own sword Psalms 44: 5-8.
the Lord is thy strength thy fortress. Psalms 31: 4 & 37: 39.
Why art thou surprised?
Is it not written?
“The kings of the earth
take their stand
And high officials
themselves have massed
together as one
against Jehovah
and against his anointed” Psalms 2: 2.
Will not the One
sitting in heaven laugh?
Will Adonai hold
these kings in derision? Psalms 2: 4.
“I myself have installed
my king on Tziyon,
my holy mountain.” Psalms 2: 4.
“Ask of me, and I will make
the nations your inheritance;
the whole wide world
will be your possession. Psalms 2: 8.
You will break them with an iron rod,
shatter them like a clay pot.” Psalms 2: 9.
Thus spoke The Lord
creator of heaven and earth.
Who can stand against you?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Memory Of Burns
How sweetly come the holy psalms
From saints and martyrs down,
The waving of triumphal palms
Above the thorny crown
The choral praise, the chanted prayers
From harps by angels strung,
The hunted Cameron's mountain airs,
The hymns that Luther sung!
Yet, jarring not the heavenly notes,
The sounds of earth are heard,
As through the open minster floats
The song of breeze and bird
Not less the wonder of the sky
That daisies bloom below;
The brook sings on, though loud and high
The cloudy organs blow!
And, if the tender ear be jarred
That, haply, hears by turns
The saintly harp of Olney's bard,
The pastoral pipe of Burns,
No discord mars His perfect plan
Who gave them both a tongue;
For he who sings the love of man
The love of God hath sung!
To-day be every fault forgiven
Of him in whom we joy
We take, with thanks, the gold of Heaven
And leave the earth's alloy.
Be ours his music as of spring,
His sweetness as of flowers,
The songs the bard himself might sing
In holier ears than ours.
Sweet airs of love and home, the hum
Of household melodies,
Come singing, as the robins come
To sing in door-yard trees.
And, heart to heart, two nations lean,
No rival wreaths to twine,
But blending in eternal green
The holly and the pine!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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The Dogs
My desires are upon me like dogs, I beat them back,
Yet they yelp upon my track;
And I know that my soul one day shall lie at their feet,
And my soul be these dogs' meat.
My soul walks robed in white where the saints sing psalms,
Among the lilies and palms,
Beholding the face of God through the radiant bars
Of the mystical gate of stars;
The robes of my soul are whiter than snow, she sings
Praise of immortal things;
Yet still she listens, still, in the night, she hears
The dogs' yelp in her ears.
O Most High! I will pray, look down through the seven
Passionate veils of heaven,
Out of eternal peace, where the world's desire
Enfolds thee in veils of fire;
Holy of Holies, the immaculate Lamb,
Behold me, the thing I am!
I, the redeemed of thy blood, the bought with a price,
The reward of thy sacrifice,
I, who walk with thy saints in a robe of white,
And who worship thee day and night,
Behold me, the thing I am, and do thou beat back
These feet that burn on my track!
I have prayed, God has heard; I have prayed to him, he has heard;
But he has not spoken a word;
My soul walks robed in white among lilies and palms,
And she hears the triumphing psalms;
But louder than all, by day and by night, she hears
The dogs' yelp in her ears;
And I know that my soul one day shall lie at their feet,
And my soul be these dogs' meat.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Spread All Over
Two weeks of blood flow! !
Looking for a place to sleep;
Diver, winner, driver, river, hiver, liver, sinner!
But, where is the truth?
One world,
One word,
Freedom! !
Looking for a place to lay my head;
Dreams, realms, Psalms, palms, reams, beams!
Of the main road,
But, you keep on changing from one place to another!
And y
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Upon The Translation Of The Psalms By Sir Philip Sidney And The Countess Of Pembroke, His Sister
ETERNAL God—for whom who ever dare
Seek new expressions, do the circle square,
And thrust into straight corners of poor wit
Thee, who art cornerless and infinite—
I would but bless Thy name, not name Thee now
—And Thy gifts are as infinite as Thou—
Fix we our praises therefore on this one,
That, as thy blessed Spirit fell upon
These Psalms' first author in a cloven tongue
—For 'twas a double power by which he sung
The highest matter in the noblest form—
So thou hast cleft that Spirit, to perform
That work again, and shed it here, upon
Two, by their bloods, and by Thy Spirit one ;
A brother and a sister, made by Thee
The organ, where Thou art the harmony.
Two that make one John Baptist's holy voice,
And who that Psalm, 'Now let the Isles rejoice,'
Have both translated, and applied it too,
Both told us what, and taught us how to do.
They show us islanders our Joy, our King ;
They tell us why, and teach us how to sing.
Make all this all three choirs, heaven, earth, and spheres ;
The first, Heaven, hath a song, but no man hears ;
The spheres have music, but they have no tongue,
Their harmony is rather danced than sung ;
But our third choir, to which the first gives ear
—For Angels learn by what the Church does here—
This choir hath all. The organist is he
Who hath tuned God and man, the organ we ;
The songs are these, which heaven's high holy Muse
Whisper'd to David, David to the Jews ;
And David's successors in holy zeal,
In forms of joy and art do re-reveal
To us so sweetly and sincerely too,
That I must not rejoice as I would do,
When I behold that these Psalms are become
So well attired abroad, so ill at home,
So well in chambers, in Thy Church so ill,
As I can scarce call that reform'd until
This be reform'd ; would a whole state present
A lesser gift than some one man hath sent ?
And shall our Church unto our Spouse and King
More hoarse, more harsh than any other, sing ?
For that we pray, we praise Thy name for this,
Which, by this Moses and this Miriam, is
Already done ; and as those Psalms we call,
—Though some have other authors—David's all,
So though some have, some may some Psalms translate,
We Thy Sidneian psalms shall celebrate,
And, till we come th' extemporal song to sing
—Learn'd the first hour that we see the King,
Who hath translated those translators—may
These their sweet learned labours all the way
Be as our tuning, that when hence we part,
We may fall in with them, and sing our part !
poem by John Donne
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Palm Sunday
Because it is the day of Palms,
Carry a palm for me,
Carry a palm in Santa Chiara,
And I will watch the sea;
There are no palms in Santa Chiara
To-day or any day for me.
I sit and watch the little sail
Lean side-ways on the sea,
The sea is blue from here to Sorrento,
And the sea-wind comes to me,
And I see the white clouds lift from Sorrento
And the dark sail lean upon the sea.
I have grown tired of all these things,
And what is left for me?
I have no place in Santa Chiara,
There is no peace upon the sea;
But carry a palm in Santa Chiara,
Carry a palm for me.
poem by Arthur Symons
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The New Knighthood
Who gives him the Bath?
"I," said the wet,
Rank-Jungle-sweat,
"I'll give him the Bath!"
Who'll sing the psalms?
"We," said the Palms.
"Ere the hot wind becalms,
"We'll sing the psalms."
Who lays on the sword ?
"I," said the Sun,
Before he has done,
"I'll lay on the sword."
"Who fastens his belt?
"I," said Short-Rations,
" I know all the fashions
"Of tightening a belt!"
Who gives him his spur?
"I," said his Chief,
Exacting and brief,
"I'll give him the spur."
Who'll shake his hand?
"I," said the Fever,
"And I'm no deceiver,
"I'll shake his hand."
Who brings him the wine?
"I," said Quinine,
"It's a habit of mine.
"I'11 come with his wine."
Who'll put him to proof?
"I," said All Earth.
"Whatever he's worth,
"I'll put to the proof."
Who'll choose him for Knight?
"I," said his Mother,
"Before any other,
"My very own Knight."
And after this fashion, adventure to seek,
Sir Galahad was made--as it might be last week!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Prophet and The Poet: Mysteries Written In Psalms
What is wondrous Psalms?
Now a question arises?
Why is Psalms prized most
frequently quoted Old Testament
book in Holy New Testament?
Does not every verse psalm point
to Christ in glorified person
in his character ministry?
Or lead believer's thoughts
to Christ.
Are not
the psalms
the language pursuit
of a believer's heart;
thirsting for our God
rejoicing in God
mourning in sin
burdened with affliction.
We struggle with temptation
or triumph in our promised hope
in enjoyment in deliverance.
Behold the psalmist's
inspired expressions
written in Holy Spirit;
help us find God
help us to pray
aid our abilities.
Are not the psalms
praising God's
divine perfections;
mediating on God's truths
thanking God for his mercies
delighting in his ministries;
also a soul touchstone
forming a Divinely appointed
standard of experience;
through which Christians
may judge ourselves
against criteria God's?
The psalms become
familiar to our souls
a radiant rare model;
a shinning beautified
example of how we ask
God at God's throne;
of grace by path
of confession
path of petition;
path of thanksgiving
for assistance in need
for our blessed salvation.
What are wondrous Psalms?
Love letters to Divine God
written in enduring passion.
The blessed psalms
are a divine spark
fermenting Christ;
in rapture in spirit
in receptive souls
enabling new birth;
the trans-formative growth
the power of a true religion
in seeking yearning hearts.
What devout affection
is working in Christians
with the blessed psalms;
written into their hearts
written into their souls
in intensified mystery?
The psalms are infused
with holy desire or hope
bitter sorrow blessed joy;
within the psalms are words
to love calm cleanse our fears;
to clothe veil sin in salvation.
The inspired speech of the psalms
chimes in all searching receptive minds;
revealing divine personality our Gods.
Psalms an exceptional unique divine book
prayers and praises heartfelt love blessings;
offered up to divine throne of grace Gods.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Feeling You In Palms.....
In the deep REALM of loneliness
and desert of silence
unseen and unsaid things
merge with each other
where silence is thirsty of happenings
thirsty of noise of creation
thirsty of itself
creating EXUBERANT canvas of moments
your powerful thoughts
appears in cloves of my soul
I try to hold your feelings in my palm
as if the palm is the complete LOVE to beloved one..
and every line of palms
every moment of palms…
even every silenced voice of palm
making me thrill for a moment
where i find
nails engraving YOUR name
Finally a forced- reminder
TO FULFIL THE LONGING
OF DRY LIPS..
poem by Seema Gupta
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Heart to Heart though Far Apart
Inspired by sparkle sent by smile which charms
revealed are sadness, joy - each in each other's arms.
A joy: because one presence warms true heart.
In sadness since two seem too far apart.
Net gain for all: that which both minds disarms
extends, shows neither needs seek other balms.
Ever is the quest for counterpart
Nature's way, uniting yin-yang part,
interweaving warp weft web as palms
are thread together, - those once singed find psalms
responding through emotion's spectrum chart.
Infinities in resonance impart
the light that second sight transmits to all -
those who, once closed, may open, heed shared call.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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I Opened The Casements Of My House
I opened the casements of my house
Onto the wild, wild sea
The billows were on it austere and free
The sea-wind with every house-corner neighed
And with the bending palms in the garden played
At dice or in the games of life at will
And still the casements opened and opened
As if by magic trance or guided else
By a thousand small invisible goblin-hands
That from the sea-main seemed to fly and come
Over the billows austere and free
As the sea-wind with every house-corner neighed
And with the bending palms in the garden played
Beyond, beyond the vista low and large
A plain of beach sand lapped by the waves
And here and there an oasis of sweet palms
That bent their olive heads in the winds’ waffling
And coming and going over the sea.
Where the white billows raged saliva-like
Or like bent god-thrones cool and flexible
In that long windy plain, in that salt sea
Upon the which my magic casements opened
That day, that long and windy day of life
The sea-wind with every house-corner neighed
And with the bending palms in the garden played
And that was long ago, not days or months,
But years, whole years and now my hair
Is turning fast to white and my breath shorter goes
Than it was then that long and windy day
The sea-cliff raged all white like the salt sea
And hid unseen the waves in the inlet small
All hidden from the eyes of curious men
Waxed green and green – ah! it is so to-day
And still
Long windy days come oft and come as go:
And the sea-wind with every house-corners neighs
And with the bending palms in the garden plays.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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A Green Poem In Jerusalem
in the beginning..
it was a colour,
a colour decided to be a poem
and it was.
so fresh and green,
as green as olive trees..
shining in jerusalem,
scattering peace and wishes..
as sacred pearls,
to all lovers and pilgrims
i saw that poem..
in a green voice..
coming from light remains,
by the right place of tur mountain
as it was sung by saints and angels
and manifested by the holy spirit, ..
who wrote it's title,
before the dawn does plant..
the dancing of wishes,
to be forever..
'a green poem..
..in jerusalem'.
poem by Ahmed Khaled
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Flame
Like a flame that seeks redemption,
From Aeolus's thrusts,
Via a pair of palms that unite,
To form a monumental wall;
I seek my own pair of palms;
To unite for a simple prayer;
For a miraculous intervention;
Two eyes that stare at mine's;
With a symbiotic dependency.
Oh Gabriel where are thou?
I am waiting, even in my twilight;
As the candle flames on;
In my flimsy vulnerability;
Protected by my beloved's touch;
And St Elmo's fire;
As their palms holds me away;
From the vengeful thrusts of the wind gods;
Walking in the cracked footpaths of destiny;
With a candle in hand;
Waiting for destiny.....
To spring a surprise.
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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She Is Me
Sandalwood
and the hum of busy stitches
drift through memories
on faded photographs.
a gentle hand
that turns a crackling recording
of gospel tunes
and electric guitars,
she sits reading
romance and heroes
while romance evades her sight
and heroes only fall
-
hiding her failings in the small oven
where memories were cooked
and tea leaves danced
in the ochre hue
of yesterdays travels,
she danced in hallways
aiming to please
a jeering crowd,
all except one
who took the gifts
and wrapped them in cobwebs
to open in secret
---
pressing the glistening silver
into small palms
she recited psalms
in anxious tones.
the softest of kisses
could not detract
from the perfect waves
of red
that adorned a head
so distant
so conformed
to ideals
of reform
---
and so she will dance
burn incense
of sandalwood
to rid the blight
of idealist sight
for these three
are she
and she is they
in some small way
poem by Alc Harris
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The Prophet And The Poet: Teach Antithetic Parallelism
What is
Antithetic
parallelism?
Antithetic
Parallelism
in biblical poetry
is a poetic construction
through which the thought
embodied in the first line
is clarified by contrast
by opposition expressed
embedded in a second line
this principle
is swiftly taught
in simple lines
'The poor are shunned
even by their neighbors,
but the rich have many friends.' Proverbs 14: 20
Other translations
accurately state
the poor are disliked
despised hated;
but the rich are loved
by many friends.
Clear precise impact
reveals piercing sad reality
God reinforces the lesson.
'Wealth brings many friends,
but a poor man's friend deserts him.' Proverbs 19: 4.
Truth is sharp prophet written.
'A poor man is shunned
by all his relatives—
how much more do his friends
avoid him! Though he pursues
them with pleading,
they are nowhere to be found.' Proverbs 19: 7.
But what is God's verdict
what does God decree
with regard to this matter?
'The LORD is intimately acquainted
with the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked is destroyed.' Psalms 1: 6.
'For the LORD watches
over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked will perish.' Psalms 1: 6.
All translations all biblical writers
infused with inspiration by Holy Spirit
teach God's clear concise insights.
God has written
precise observations
of nature into Psalms.
'The young lions do lack,
and suffer hunger:
but they that seek
the LORD shall not want
any good thing.' Psalms 34: 10.
Is a promise of heavenly reward?
We believe grow in God
from seeds of faith
into trees of knowledge.
'He is like a tree planted by streams
of water that yields its fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither.
In all that he does, he prospers.' Psalms 1: 3.
Psalms is exceptional in poetic beauty;
in heartfelt intensity; who perceives mystery?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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City of Love
Ode to joy, from the chalice filled with wine, from the chalice filled with light.
Ode to darkness, the shadows dress confess the blackness, confined to trials and tribulations, we seek the hour of consumation. We seek the divinity, by candles, prayers and charity. The chalice of love, the city of love beside the sea.
Ode to the chalice filled with light, ode to the wind, carrying the breath
of psalms, upon ashes smeared on palms. Ode, to this light, to the blood raised in wine, the cross and loss, divine, the holy shroud of white.
Water In The Spirit
wondrous birth weeps for tears, the rope
tainted with blood and the hood scented with
candle, for the victorious legacy echo in a
great distance
hear the angelic cried of the infant,
where the choir of Vatican tower its honor
of harmony magnificently beat the
glory of God; like rainbow in the ashes
of rain gracefully glimpse the moist of change
the spirited elders sing of praise and heard
as the mountain of faith gather to meet the
prince of the church, hail and cheer the
palms that Lily in the Philippines archipelago;
the purple chariot of Archdiocese of Manila
has home the faithful of soul to serve
gently pour out every hand for the Spirit
of God resemble in His servant
'a poem dedicated to His Eminence CARDINAL LUIS ANTONIO TAGLE '
As the 7th Catholic Cardinal of the Republic of the Philippines
poem by Antonio Liao
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Unsung Psalm
There would be psalms sung by a choir
I would have a white robe a halo newly acquired
Id be at peace and Id have no desire
If Id lived right
There would be cherubs with tiny harps arrows and bows
Id have a halo and a flowing white robe
Id be enfolded by a celestial light
If Id lived right
But Im feeling hot and bothered under the collar
I feel the sweat breaking out on my brow
I feel the heat and I know its the passion
The love I cant disavow
If this is a dream wake me up now
If this is a movie lets edit these scenes out
It would be a pg instead of an x rated life
If Id lived right
Some would call me a cheat call me a liar
Say that Ive been defeated by the basest desired
Yes I have strayed and succumbed to my vices
But I tried to live right
But I have no regrets no guilt in my heart
I only feel sadness for any pain that Ive caused
I guess I wouldnt bother to worry at all
If Id lived right
Do you live by the book do you play by the rules
Do you care what is thought by others about you
If this day is all that is promised to you
Do you life for the future the present the past
If there is one thing I know I know I will die
If anyone cares some stranger my critique my life
I may be revered or defamed and decried
But I tried to live right
There would be psalms sung by a choir
I would have a white robe a halo newly acquired
Id be at peace and Id have no desire
If Id lived right
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holly Holy
Holly holy eyes
Dream of only you
Well I am what I am,
What I believe in
Holly holy
Holly holy dreams
Wanting only you
Yes she comes
And I run just like the wind will
Holly holy
Sing, sing a song
Sing, sing a song of songs
Sing, sing it out loud
Well sing a song
Let me hear you say, yeah, yeah - yeah
Call the sun in the dead of the night
And the sun will rise in the sky
Touch a man who cant walk upright
And the lame man, will be alright
And I fly
And I fly
Holly holy eyes
Wanting only you
And I see, will it be for everyone
Holly holy
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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