We are Never Alone
Regal flowers show their true nature
Audience with the king is sacred
Just as I am is paramount
Refined by stars and searing light
Pruned in the garden of fire
What is love without dharma earth?
Pillars of a city scalded in tears
The sky clasps the sweet bride
Wait in robes white and tried
New wine from the immortal vine
Serene morning shines with hope
The sun is gracious like a well
We journey refreshed by the river
Naked hearts pine for the light
Gentleness fortified with joy
We are never alone
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Related quotes
Show Me
Hold me very tight,
Of the stars of my light;
Show me the way to success,
Of the stars of my life;
With tears and sorrows to all mankind.
The sun rises from the east to the west,
So let the beauty of the earth do give us hope;
I need the place where true love is like,
The place where there are no guns and wars.
Oh human race, do show me the way;
Show me faithfully to the wolrd so sweet,
For i need a place where true love is.
The beauty of the earth is like,
The beauty of my love;
Of a pure heart is the hill of my light,
Like where there are no hate and worries.
Show me the way, of the stars of my life;
Hold me and lead me on, of the tsars of my light;
For i need a place where love is,
Like a place where there are no bombs and racism.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home to Home
Embrace the golden rose of hope
Sea gulls glide by shores of beauty
Tides role with joy and laughter
Children play in the bright new day
I write your name in the sacred sand
When we are long gone it will remain
True hearts never really part do they?
All that is gone will soon shine on
I feel you more inside then ever before
You are the eternal day always rising
Let the yellow and blue wild flowers grow
Let everything live and run long and free
Hear the songs of the robins in the morning
Once you see love it never goes away
Deep in the sea hope is a gift of promise
Warm yourself by the fire of mystical love
Touch the cedar trees and feel the wind
Follow the river like a fine new friend
The earth shall be replenished and restored
Fill your eyes with the brightest of stars
The moon is rising like a humble queen
Ivory clouds glisten in her majestic wake
Sleep deep, rest with white light dreams
Everything is going to turn out right
Hope leads the heart from home to home
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Is The Night
When the day is done and theres nowhere to run
And the people of the city have all lost and won
In your city dress you stand and stare
And you smoke another cigarette and comb your hair
And the light that shines
Paints a trace of sadness
On the street I wait
But I cant seem to get to you.
Well, you start to sway, check your cartier
cos its getting late, you cant afford to wait
So you move along where its going on
And the people of the night are playing till the dawn
And the sun that shines
Paints a trace of sadness
In your eyes that cry
Wishing and hoping
Oh...
Chorus:
Sweet, sweet is the night
Now you are near
Dark, dark were the days
They disappear
Sweet, sweet is the night
Now you are near.
Well you did your thing and you lost your wings
And you hurt so bad you lost everything
And the tears that fall on the city wall
Will fade away with the rays of morning light that shines
Paints a smile across your pretty face
I know
Everything is alright
Alright...
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God's Gift - Nature...........
When the beautiful morning comes
The rays of rising sun kiss her
When the garden of nature open its heart
The garden of flowers hugs her to welcome
When the trees dance to tune of wind
The birds singing to the nature's choir
When the gentleness of nature is filled pleasure
Then the earth get wet with weather
When the nature forgets its vastness
Then the God shows her how big her place on earth
Let us thank God for his creation and given us
eyes to see lovely gift - Nature
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Little Blond Plaits
This is the garden that I know
Ten thousand summers wait me here
You lead and I will follow
Your heart is my tomorrow
Into your womb, I fade away
And while she laughs
Your pride is turning into snow
And melting on the face
Of this light of hope
Shine on, light of hope
Light of hope
And while she laughs
Your pride is turning into snow
And dancing on the graves
Of what you though you used to know
And in this garden
I will burn my callous robes
And forever love my darling
Light of hope
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Light Of Hope
This is the garden that I know
Ten thousand summers wait me here
You lead and I will follow
Your heart is mine tomorrow
Into your womb I fade away
And while she laughs
Your pride is turning into snow
And melting on the face of this light of hope
Shine on, light of hope
Light of hope
And while she laughs
Your pride is turning into snow
And dancing on the graves of what you thought you used to know
And in this garden I will burn my callous robes
And forever love my darling
Light of hope
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Green Branch
I want to be a green branch
In vineyards of the Lord
To grow in strength and beauty
As leaves to light unfold
To dwell close to the true vine
Refreshed by showers of faith
Amid a sea of flowers
No weeds, no seeds of wraith
I want to see the garden
That Jesus tends with love
The true vine of all living
Who blesses from above
I want to be a green branch
In vineyards of the Lord
To grow in strength and beauty
As leaves to light unfold.
poem by Liilia Talts Morrison
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Mad or Enlightened
Mad or enlightened the same, the universe
is an embryo of darkness born in upon itself, everywhere
its own womb breaking into the pulse of stars within stars,
and everywhere, the shining before the light, the dark mirror
showing the light its own face for the first time,
how in an eventually that is always now
it would attain flowers and eyes along the way
and become the skin of the rain as it falls to earth in April.
If I change to fire, these letters burn, blow away as ash
on the tongue of the wind; if water, then the stars put themselves out
in their own weeping like candles drowning in tears.
Every step of the journey around ourselves
is another world, another garden to plant the seed-names
we’ve shaken from autumns in other realms
and carried around like sacred jewels
we forgot in the corners of our pockets and hearts. Believe it;
when I am all stars; you are all the listening darkness
I pour myself into like a drunkard into a bottomless glass
and you raise me to your lips and drink yourself up
until you’re blinded into clarity
by all the open cages of the light.
Why lie in your own coffin, night after starless night,
if you’re not empowered by your long obedience?
Better to open your eyes on the other side
of your horizontal door, better to come knocking from the outside,
deluded vertically, than suffer this poverty of blood within
the hushed precincts of your skyless realm,
the skull-bone basilicas of your private Vaticans and law libraries.
When it wakes up in the morning
there’s no book-dust in the eyes of the light.
Before you now, in your endless beginning, the dream
you thought you had rubbed from your eyes, you
waking up like a key inside the heart of the dream.
There’s nothing you can’t unlock, even
gardens on the moon or the ancient futures of past lives
death only pruned back with shears to bloom again
in the efflorescence of your eyes, early dawns in the new arraying.
Who you are flows into who you are, all one river of seeing,
dizzy and composed in its own running, all
your own eddies and currents, swamps and white-water,
auroral maids of the mist when you fall in separate drops,
weeping’s just a waterfall, and frenzied tides of being
when you crash ashore out of your own wholeness into buddhas and bums.
In the fire, everyone’s crazy with passion and intelligence,
everyone’s smashed on the wine of an unknown guest
trying to be remembered by his friends.
What visions abound in the orchards of the blessing,
What hearts are torn out and thrown upon the fire
like planets called home by the longing of the sun? We are the white shadows
of the someone else who is walking up ahead
like the moon on the path of its own reflection.
Catch up to yourself and drown in the luminosity of your own being.
Who needs a map to the road they’re walking
or sages pointing all along the way, grey as barnboard signs,
or luminaries at night
pointing to the darkness. The pivot of the worlds points to itself.
True north is not a direction. Haven’t you guessed by now; the stars
all circle you like stormbirds drawn to a lighthouse on the coast of heaven,
too in love with your light to heed your warning about
the deep dragon grief that opens the mouth of the wound
that killed it into life, a one-edged sword of light
in the hands of a holy assassin darker than the silence
of the sun at midnight. If you listen with your eyes,
you can hear in that mournful emptiness
God calling out to God, lover and beloved,
through the echoless valley, across the waveless sea,
yours the name on the prow of the ship that breaks through the veils of the storm,
and yours the name of the storm. You are the bird
that answers the green bough; the lightning in the rigging.
You are the sigh of the silence
and the mystic pen in the hand of the saying.
Whatever worlds you dress for, fields and flowers,
or stars and hourglass elsewhere zones, you are the body of being,
and yours the gowns and robes of creation you draw from the abyss
like clothes from a private closet, dignified in your scriptures,
intimate in your jewels. And everywhere you coyly let yourself fall
like earrings of rain, scarves of fire, fragrances of light,
and watch to see who of the many lovers that are you
bends down like the sky to pick them up at your feet
and return them to you like the first crescent of the moon
rising like an eyelid out of sleep
to greet itself reflected in your face.
poem by Patrick White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tenderness
Light with words of spring
Inside of you I see a garden
You radiate
Nothing disguised lasts
Serene shore in silent morning
Orchids of orange joy
Lovers as natural as waves
Children laughing in the breeze
Ships as mystical as stars
How can I make you feel beautiful?
Hearts need to love
Now the moon replaces the sun
She shines tonight like a chandelier
Her blue gown like waterfalls
Her fingernails painted silver
Tenderness can be a temptress
Tenderness in thigh high boots
Tenderness like a divine knife
Now the morning shines
She smiles like a little girl
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Lullaby For My Beloved
a beautiful lullaby
written upon the breath of love
shines forth radiant
like serene song of stars above
sleeps sweet tendrils
lull my beloved to sleep
watch guard her safe
until dawn’s light creep
may sweet dreams
enfold your soul all night
arise fresh renewed
in golden morning light
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Flesh of My Flesh
Under the dark earth you rise
Under the deep pain and shame you appear
I love you like the morning
Jubilee in the pomegranates of forgiveness
Time is a cruel garment
We need garments of praise
Light dancing in joy
Circles of living temples
Dance with me my lonely lover
Flow into me like a feast
I am unworthy of the kingdom
I have been redeemed
I deserve nothing
The cross has called me
Mercy has flooded me
Freedom brings wings
Be my righteous lover
Emotion ripe like deep wine
Desire so deep I blush
Come out from your cloak
You are totally beautiful
You are utterly sweet
Lit by the menorah
Come hear the trumpets
Fields of singing flowers
Gentleness like sweet fruit
Heaven brings a bride
My metaphor of true love
Come to me and work for the eternal
Come wear garlands of joy
Flesh of my flesh
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Little HandMaiden
The King's son walks in the garden fair-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
He little knows for his toil and care,
That the bride is gone and the bower is bare.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
The sun shines bright through the casement high-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
The little handmaid, with a laughing eye,
Looks down on the king's son, strolling by.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
'He little knows that the bride is gone,
And the Earl knows little as he;
She is fled with her lover afar last night
And the King's son is left to me.'
And back to her chamber with velvety step
The little handmaid did glide,
And a gold key took from her bosom sweet,
And opened the great chests wide.
She bound her hair with a band of blue,
And a garland of lilies sweet;
And put on her delicate silken shoes,
With roses at her feet.
She clad her body in spotless white,
With a girdle as red as blood.
The glad white raiment her beauty bound,
As the sepels blind the bud.
And round and round her white neck she flung
A necklace of sapphires blue;
On one white finger of either hand
A shining ring she drew.
And down the stairway and out of the door
She glided, as soft and light,
As an airy tuft of a thistle seed
Might glide through the grasses bright.
And into the garden sweet she stole-
The little birds carolled loud-
Her beauty shone as a star might shine
In the rift of the morning cloud.
The King's son walked in the garden fair,
And the little handmaiden came,
Through the midst of a shimmer of roses red,
Like a sunbeam through a flame.
The King's son marvelled, his heart leaped up,
'And art thou my bride?' said he,
'For, North or South, I have never beheld
A lovelier maid than thee.'
'And dost thou love me?' the little maid cried,
'A fine King's son, I wis!'
And the king's son took her with both his hands,
And her ruddy lips did kiss.
And the little maid laughed till the beaded tears,
Ran down in a silver rain.
'O foolish King's son!' and she clapped her hands,
Till the gold rings rang again.
'O King's son, foolish and fooled art thou,
For a goodly game is played:
Thy bride is away with her lover last night,
And I am her little handmaid.'
And the King's son sware a great oath, said he-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
'If the Earl's fair daughter a traitress be,
The little handmaid is enough for me.'
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
The King's son walks in the garden fair-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
And the little handmaiden walketh there,
But the old Earl pulleth his beard for care.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Full Moon
Above the tower -- a lone, twice-sized moon.
On the cold river passing night-filled homes,
It scatters restless gold across the waves.
On mats, it shines richer than silken gauze.
Empty peaks, silence: among sparse stars,
Not yet flawed, it drifts. Pine and cinnamon
Spreading in my old garden . . . All light,
All ten thousand miles at once in its light!
Full Moon
Above the tower -- a lone, twice-sized moon.
On the cold river passing night-filled homes,
It scatters restless gold across the waves.
On mats, it shines richer than silken gauze.
Empty peaks, silence: among sparse stars,
Not yet flawed, it drifts. Pine and cinnamon
Spreading in my old garden . . . All light,
All ten thousand miles at once in its light!
A Fruitful Hill
Small works, Big City;
Big works, Small City;
Like the tale of two cities.
Here comes the Bride and the bridegroom,
True love is sweeter than honey;
I am on the fruitful hill with words.
Sauerkraut on my table,
true love is sweeter than the honeycomb;
Yes, a virtuous woman is a crown to her husband.
Apples of gold,
A kiss on the lips;
Beyond the River of Ethiopia.
Like the choicest vine,
Life on the fruitful hill;
The day of the wedding crowns it all.
The purple rain,
The purple cushion,
A fruit so sweet to my taste;
Refresh me with sweet apples.
The gold of Sheba,
The fruit of Lebanon,
Let the earth be glad around you;
Flaming fire,
Swarms of flies,
Let the heavens rejoice around you;
Big works, Small City;
Small works, Big City;
A tale of two cities with the love of a muse,
The humble shall see and rejoice always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Nettie
Now has the spring her treasures all unbound,
The earth has put her wedding-garment on,
And, robed in light, with flowers and verdure crowned,
Comes forth in joy to meet the bridegroom sun.
Thou, too, in thy young life's first bloom and pride,
Joyous as spring, fresh as the morning air,
Fair as the flowers of May, comest forth a bride,
And bowest thy head, Love's golden chain to wear.
Were mine the power, thy course of life should be
Serene and tranquil as the summer sky.
No wintry blast should rudely visit thee,
No tear of sorrow ever dim thine eye.
And when that hour should come, as come it must,
And thy long summer day draw to its close,
Filled with immortal hope and heavenly trust
Thou like the sun shouldst sink to thy repose.
Vain wish, for cloudless skies, life without tears!
A wiser, higher power controls thy fate.
Sorrow and joy are each his ministers;
And each alike on human footsteps wait.
Seek then his aid who was a man of grief,
Who bore the cross and won a crown for thee,
And thou shalt walk the troubled sea of life,
As once he walked the Sea of Galilee.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Unseen City
Not far away does that bright city stand,
'Tis but the mist o'er its dividing stream,
That wraps the glory of its glitt'ring strand,
Its radiant skies, and mountains silvery gleam;
Oh, often in the blindness of our fate
We wander very near the city's gate.
We love that unseen city, and we yearn
Ever within our earthly homes to see
Its golden towers, that in the sunset burn,
Its white walls rising from the quiet sea;
Its mansions gleaming with immortal glow,
Filled with the treasure lost to us below.
Yes, dear ones that we loved and lost are there;
Bright in that fair clime beam those sweet eyes now;
Fanned by its soft breeze floats the shining hair,
Hair we have smoothed back from the gentlest brow;
Softest white hands we kissed and clasped in ours
Slipped from our grasp, lured by its glowing flowers.
Fairer it seems, its velvet walks were sweet,
Dearer its quiet streets, with gold paved o'er,
Since o'er them lightly fall the little feet--
The light feet bounding through our homes no more;
Oh, heart's dear music, tearfully missed,
That city's filled with melody like this.
It is not far away; down from its arches roll
Anthems too sacred for the outward ear,
Pouring their haunting sweetness on the soul;
Oh, how our waiting spirits thrill to hear,
In listening to the low bewildering strain,
Voices they said we should not hear again.
Oh, dear to us that city. He is there,
He whom unseen we love; no need of light;
His tender eyes illume the crystal air
Where His beloved walk in vesture white,
What though on earth they wandered, poor, distressed,
And saw through tears His glory, now they rest.
Oh, that fair city, shining o'er the tide,
Thither we journey through the storm and night;
But soon shall we adown its still bay glide,
Soon will the city's gate gleam on our sight,
There with our own forever shall we be,
In that fair city rising from the sea.
poem by Marietta Holley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With Madness Like to Mine
NOT one is filled with madness like to mine
In all the taverns! my soiled robe lies here,
There my neglected book, both pledged for wine.
With dust my heart is thick, that should be clear,
A glass to mirror forth the Great King's face;
One ray of light from out Thy dwelling-place
To pierce my night, oh God! and draw me near.
From out mine eyes unto my garment's hem
A river flows; perchance my cypress-tree
Beside that stream may rear her lofty stem,
Watering her roots with tears. Ah, bring to me
The wine vessel! since my Love's cheek is hid,
A flood of grief comes from my heart unbid,
And turns mine eyes into a bitter sea!
Nay, by the hand that sells me wine, I vow
No more the brimming cup shall touch my lips,
Until my mistress with her radiant brow
Adorns my feast-until Love's secret slips
From her, as from the candle's tongue of flame,
Though I, the singèd moth, for very shame,
Dare not extol Love's light without eclipse.
Red wine I worship, and I worship her--
Speak not to me of anything beside,
For nought but these on earth or heaven I care.
What though the proud narcissus flowers defied
Thy shining eyes to prove themselves more bright,
Yet heed them not! those that are clear of sight
Follow not them to whom all light's denied.
Before the tavern door a Christian sang
To sound of pipe and drum, what time the earth
Awaited the white dawn, and gaily rang
Upon mine ear those harbingers of mirth:
'If the True Faith be such as thou dost say,
Alas! my Hafiz, that this sweet To-day
Should bring unknown To-morrow to the birth!'
poem by Shams al-Din Hafiz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Little Light
I need my little light to shine, for The Savior, all the time,
That light God has put in me, for everyone around to see,
The difference now in my life, in the Light of Jesus Christ,
Each and every place I go, my light for Christ must show.
The light God has put in me, is light that leads to eternity,
A light that leads other men, to know that I'm Born Again,
Born of God's Spirit above, providing all light I speak of,
Light that is all from God, this I say with a confident nod.
A light must shine every place, as we're still under Grace,
In an age where wrong's right, I need to show God's light,
Light shines best in the dark, and it begins with His spark,
From God's light deep within, to be light in a world of sin.
When I'm going through a trial, His light shines, no denial,
Through a trial or in a test, God's light surely shines best,
It is Christ's Light men see, not the strength of you or me,
For in a day when all is wrong, it is His light that is strong.
God's light reflects true peace, that all see doesn't cease,
Peace that is from the Lord, by others, goes not ignored,
As God affords us in this life, to point all to Jesus Christ,
For His light shines anytime, as I'm God's and He is mine.
(Copyright ©05/2012)
The River That Murmurs
I will ask the river, that flows serene
I will speak to the sky
I will ask the river that murmurs
Not to ask me why
I cannot speak for myself.
That time has long since passed me by.
The river can murmur and sing
Unspent by passion: my voice
Will break like a terribly taut string.
My words will be grammatically and academically
Twisted (like that leafless tree) , unfortunately!
I want the river to speak, to speak
Alone, alone with thee.
The river can, softly and without tears
Tell you my dreams and my fears
I know you will listen:
And while city lights in the water glisten
You wont see the tears that shine on my face
No, that is a serious, sentimental place
That only I know;
Flow, river, flow.
Flow, river flow.
Speak to the only love I know.
Daybreak approaches soon
You and he by the light of the moon
Will murmur whilst I -
Will wait for you to bring me his reply.
poem by Rani Turton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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