She Is Mother Nature Keeper of Our Lives!
She stands upon the shores of time
Contemplating the rhythm of time
She bends slowly like a graceful swan
To dip her hands into the cool essence of life
She watches the ripples as they flicker through the water
Cascading into seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years
Generating the life of a child she watches
As it grows from baby to toddler to young child
Then onto turbulent years of teenager and young adult
The ripples cascading through the years
As the child becomes a man/woman
She gasps at how the flow of life shifts into the ripples of time
She watches as the ripples decide what fate beholds them next
She smiles at souls as it changes their hues of colours to blend with life
She is the essence that all there is
She is a beauty within
She is Mother Nature the keeper of our Lives
poem by Kaila George
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Related quotes
Little Ripples
On a tranquil sea.
Are they really that calm?
Can I cross them,
Like a bump in the road.
Do I find the strength
Like in youthful naivety?)
To speed on through
Till one overtakes me
In my mind.
Little ripples.
They scare me so.
I keep swimming day by day.
Eyes just above the ripples.
Little ripples, Little ripples
Be kind to my mind!
The salt water relaxation
Is taking me away
From earthly cares.
But how many more ripples
Can I surmount?
Before I give up
And just become a memory
In peoples minds`.
poem by Peter Vealey
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Ripples In The Water
Once a week I go to Battery Park
To recharge my life's batteries;
I watch the ripples in the water
Made by the tugboats pulling their cargo.
The many ripples remind me
Of the city and its multi-ethnic background;
A panorama of life on the subway
As I travel on my way to work.
Since my retirement, I journey not to toil
But rather find myself by the riverside,
Relaxing and energizing my thoughts
As I observe, the ripples in the water.
poem by Hugh D. Wright
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For The Sake of My Child
The prayer tells me to ask for serenity to accept the things I cannot change.
My child watches and waits by my side.
The prayer tells me to ask for courage to change the things I can.
My child watches and waits by my side.
The prayer tells me to ask for wisdom to know the difference.
My child watches and waits by my side.
The actions I need to do for my recovery are just too hard today.
My child watches and waits by my side.
The time I pity myself and doubt if anyone really understands is plenty.
My child watches and waits by my side.
The hands on the clock do not stop for me to catch my breath.
Not even for the sake of my child.
poem by Todd M Davidson
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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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As The Ripples Grow
The crimson streaks across the ending day
colourize the coming clouds of night.
We trace the colours in the water
just to watch the ripples grow.
Love and friendship is like the ripples
and expand as they grow.
We hold on to others
as the rings begin to grow.
As our life passes everyday,
new loves and friendships
keep coming to unfold
making our lives richer.
We rejoice in the magic
each day our life brings
and enjoy the music
that makes our hearts sing.
17 July 2010
poem by David Harris
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A Mother
How can a mother forget her child,
the child who is conceived nine months in the womb
the child that is cradled at daytime,
night time until dawn?
How can a mother forget her child?
How can a mother forget her child
the child who after the flow of months
has learned to stand and run?
How can a mother forget her child,
the child whose mouth imitates her mother`s tongue,
the child who after a year or two can say,
'Mama, I love you'?
How can a mother forget her child,
the child who is so dear in her own heart and mind,
the child that reveals the mystery of creation,
the beauty of growth and human interaction.
the infinity of our own universe
within its finite linear time?
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Loving A Widower
your way of loving a widower
is a way of saving your life
not that it is this kind of long
distance love with nothing
to use but
just a voice in your wilderness
and some sweet talk
for at least once a week
or twice a month
but this can make what you have
in suspense
another four years to wait till
his youngest daughter graduates
in college
you wait
you like the drag of a promise
the years pass by
and then you look yourself at the mirror
the wrinkles tease you
you have been deceived
and now you find the chance
of saying no
time passed and you say
i had enough of waiting
now i can have my own life
within my hands
and i will shape it the way i like
and then you are alone again
but happier this time
deep inside you
it is what you actually wanted
and you have chosen it
like it is your destiny
you say you want it and
then finally declare
you don't want any
like you throw a stone to the sea
to make the ripples
but what you wanted to see
are ripples disappearing one by one
and the stone finally sinking
deep down under
until it is gone and you sit and stare
and heave a sigh
finally you leave a smile to the setting sun
and then take your way back home
i guess no one is still waiting
you take the key from your purse and then open your door
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Saw A Child Four Months Old Today
I SAW A CHILD FOUR MONTHS OLD TODAY
I saw a child four months old today
And was brought back to a most happy time in my life
When my children were very young-
Who could have believed this blessing would come again
And this small grandchild would make me feel
As I have not felt in years
That life itself is an incredible joy beyond any I ever could have expected
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Lifetime In Your Hands
Baby.
On the floor they lay
Not a wrinkle or crease to save
Little hands do wave
Wanting to play
Young child.
In dirt and muck
Hands still mild and soft
More by youth than luck
Plays the young child hands aloft
Teenager.
Learning in school
For peers appear cool
In paint and ink
Their hands do stink
Young adult.
Now working hard
Sweat and toil
midday sun, mad
Hands now a trowel
Middle age.
Hands hard and worn
Some cut, sworn
Holds a child
Strong and mild
50 - 60
Wrinkles appear
Fingers and thumbs
On the rear
Liver spots like speckled crumbs
Old age (ish)
Wrinkled and lined
Courted and dined
Etched in their story of life
Sprinkled with some strife
End of time.
Transparent and Boney
Face hard set, maybe lonely
Hands wave a sigh
Soon to say goodbye
RG
poem by Robert Green
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Ripples
Bluegirls come in every size
Some are wise and some otherwise,
They got pretty blue eyes.
For an hour a man may change
For an hour her face looks strange -
Looks strange, looks strange.
Marching to the promised land
Where the honey flows and takes you by the hand,
Pulls you down on your knees,
While youre down a pool appears.
The face in the water looks up,
And she shakes her head as if to say
That its the last time youll look like today.
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Gone to the other side.
Sail away, away.
The face that launched a thousand ships
Is sinking fast, that happens you know,
The water gets below.
Seems not very long ago
Lovelier she was than any that I know.
Angels never know its time
To close the book and gracefully decline,
The song has found a tale.
My, what a jealous pool is she.
The face in the water looks up
She shakes her head as if to say
That the bluegirls have all gone away.
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Theyve gone to the other side.
Look into the pool,
Ripples never come back,
Dive to the bottom and go to the top
To see where they have gone
Oh, theyve gone to the other side...
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Gone to the other side.
Look into the pool,
The ripples never come back, come back,
Dive to the bottom and go to the top
To see where they have gone
Theyve gone to the other side
Ripples never come back
Sail away, away...
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Declaration Of Life
Declaration of life
Is a written paper
That I keep in the drawers of my desk
It is a declaration of life that is truly an amazing gift
Sign, sealed, and delivered by God
At the time I was born
And at the time I had entered his world
I had grown and seen all his world
Today I am a believer
I am the one who is falling into God's footsteps
And God is life
This day was made for me
Bring it on I will
I will look on your side of the world
Because there are places
Which are brighter
Filled with thy love and peace
God tells me I will take care of you
Many years to come
Declaration of life
Live my child
Live well my child
Enjoy it my child
Drink my child
Eat my child
Sleep well at night my child
And don't forget about me my child
Child I am the one who signed the declaration of life
In your heart, mind, and soul I live
Child take time to consider grace
God the landscape grows green with your love
Eternity isn't something we wait for-it's what we breathe
God
poem by Aldo Kraas
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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
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How Often Does One Dream
How often dose ones dream become reality
how often do we feel safe and sound
among-est. family and friends
how often does a stranger
touch our lives that
leaves ripples of time
that affect the way we think
changing the shifting of sands
We sit alone in the dark
contemplating what is life
how do we let the years go pass
with the patches of blackness
that dapples the paths we chose
as we jump from sunbeam to sunbeam
thinking how often there are highs and lows
in one’s life as we learn to live and breathe
How can you tell loved ones
how much they mean to you
as a friend, a husband, a wife,
a son, a daughter, your best friend
your soul mate for life
You tell them with meaning
behind each word, and saying
that you love, respect them
for the rest of their lives
poem by Kaila George
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Wake For Young Souls
Today I found my soul
I felt it die inside of me yeah
So I turn to you
Life is like we never know
I have your face in a photo in high school
And you were alive
But thats all I had
And I cant remember who I was myself then
And it doesnt help
Still I look to you as a friend
To tell me
Who we are now, who we are
Its who we are now, who we are
Where does time go now on a wake for young souls
You tell me
Its who we are now, who we are
Where does time go now on a wake for young souls
Another lullaby go sing oh ooh oh ooh oh ooh
Well the wind that blows
Its blowing colder
And the child that grows
Shes growing older
And the friends we know
Theyll turn a shoulder
But the friends we know
Theyre growing colder so
Its who we are now, who we are
Its who we are now, who we are
Where does time go now on a wake for young souls
You tell me, who we are now, who we are
Its who we are now, who we are
Whoa no now on a wake for young souls
Na na na na na na...
Cycle of the moon brings blood to the woman
And blood of the woman brings birth of a child
The child grow up
Keep forgetting something
Birth of a child comes someplace while youll
Living great days with the shade of the wind
Unbodied unsouled unheard unseen
On the day of the dead like a song in my head
Hear you speak to me in the shape of a dress say
Treat me natural like a wind that blows
Follow the direction no matter where it goes
So it shall be the earth and the sea
Let the truth blow like a hurricane through me
Oh ooh oh ooh oh ooh oooh...
If Ive been cold, if Ive spoken in anger
Two have been born
Forgive me
No I dont see your mother
Not like before
Though she hasnt forgotten
She doesnt like to be reminded anymore
Then he got married
It didnt come without tears
But the day you died I had laughter for these years
So its who we are now, who we are
Its who we are now, who we are
Where does time go now on a wake for young souls now
Its who we are now, who we are
Its who we are now, who we are
Whoa no now on a wake for young souls
All the things we know
Theyre gonna fall away from me yeah
Like a grain of sand, it slips through a good friends hand
song performed by by Third Eye Blind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Universe Embraces Written Souls
Turn album of memories
holds time in our hands
heart throbs paint images
we ran our souls in light
as we ran wet flow fingers
through paint breath canvas
deep colours blaze in hues
shape soul gift open flowers
we set flower sails on water
streams sparkle seed shapes
ripples ride diamond light river
celebrations perfume daylight
candles warm birth womb night
our souls hold time in serenity
star smiles illuminate light sky
pulse in glow depths time space
spreads shadows veils shimmer
black lace spreads wind ripples
beautifies bodies breath bright
beauty ripe graces eyes beholders
bliss embrace heaven sung melody
sparkle eyes thrill flash flesh radiant
blows soft whispers into comic seas
angels sing joy celebrate soul maker.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Dedicated to Unwritten Soul
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Reflection of God
Thoughts are like ripples,
gently flowing over
the surface of the mind.
Deep inside us
we bear the image of God,
the ripples of thought break that image
into fragments.
It is as if you are looking in
a lake full of ripples-
It is a full moon night,
and the lake is reflecting
the beautiful moon.
But the lake is full of ripples
You cannot gather the moon together;
the moon goes on splitting
into a thousand fragments.
The whole lake seems to be
spread over by the moon-
the silvery beauty, softly broken apart;
many a fragments is seen floating-
all around.
Then the wind stops,
the ripples disappear:
those fragments start falling into one moon.
The silver that was spread
all over the lake,
now becomes more concentrated
into one place - into one moon.
When the lake
is completely without ripples,
the moon is reflected perfectly.
God is reflected perfectly
when there is no ripple in you.
poem by Nazmul Haque
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The Beauty of a Mother
The beauty of a woman starts
When her womb begins to grow
The child that she'll give birth
Soon will call her, “my mother”
The beauty of a mother reigns
When her arms cradle her child
And her charm shines within
Her heart full of love and care
The beauty of mother un-fades
When her hands guide her child
In all places walking side by side
To protect her child from danger
The beauty of a mother is her brain
To teach her child to read and write
To let the child know the difference
Of what is wrong and what is right
The beauty of a mother is her act
To treat her child without compare
To list none of whatsoever is best
For her child is the gem of her life
Then the beauty of mother reflects
From the eyes of her child in return
To respect, love, and care for her
When age and time set them apart
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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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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Our child once grown
What if my wife revealed that she was pregnant by me?
However, what if our child one day chose simply not to believe?
In nine months and eighteen years, I need to answer this question.
Nine months for God and my wife to give birth to the little one.
Eighteen year for us to train them in the way that they should go.
But, it is our child choice in whom to believe once grown and outside our front door.
At home, our child shall be instructed about the consequences of their sin.
Our child will understand the punishment of God for sin in the end.
I will train our child up in the Godly way that they should always go.
I will show them the love of the wonderful God I personally know.
Once grown, by us, our child shall be shown how to live life righteously.
Regardless in whom they believe, they will always be our child to me.
How would I feel if in spite of everything I taught and showed our child?
Our child decided, once grown, to take another way in life for a while.
Although taught while young not to steal; once grown they stole any way.
Although taught while young not to lie; once grown they lied every day.
Would I abandon them as quickly as the rest of the world?
Would they still be the prized apple of your heart and still be daddy’s little boy or girl?
Still, there is always a chance our child might choose in God not to believe.
If our child does, it is not because of the lack of the right instructions from me.
I will love our child even if by their life they chose not to follow God.
Because no matter what our child is an important part of my heart.
In who to continue to believe that major choice of life shall be their own.
But, they are still our child though they choose not to believe or act right once grown.
poem by Reginald Walker
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a Child
God gives a child
for a while as a gift to you
to keep in your arms.
It may be for eighty years
or maybe time is measured out
much shorter,
but a time will come that he or she
will go back to the dust
from where new life comes.
The life of the child
will put sparkle in every day
and to see love in the eyes of that child,
will make your life unforgettable
and you will feel as if you are touching immortality
if you raise that child in His ways.
poem by Gert Strydom
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