On Religion
And an old priest said, 'Speak to us of Religion.'
And he said:
Have I spoken this day of aught else?
Is not religion all deeds and all reflection,
And that which is neither deed nor reflection, but a wonder and a surprise ever springing in the soul, even while the hands hew the stone or tend the loom?
Who can separate his faith from his actions, or his belief from his occupations?
Who can spread his hours before him, saying, 'This for God and this for myself; This for my soul, and this other for my body?'
All your hours are wings that beat through space from self to self.
He who wears his morality but as his best garment were better naked.
The wind and the sun will tear no holes in his skin.
And he who defines his conduct by ethics imprisons his song-bird in a cage.
The freest song comes not through bars and wires.
And he to whom worshipping is a window, to open but also to shut, has not yet visited the house of his soul whose windows are from dawn to dawn.
Your daily life is your temple and your religion.
Whenever you enter into it take with you your all.
Take the plough and the forge and the mallet and the lute,
The things you have fashioned in necessity or for delight.
For in revery you cannot rise above your achievements nor fall lower than your failures.
And take with you all men:
For in adoration you cannot fly higher than their hopes nor humble yourself lower than their despair.
And if you would know God be not therefore a solver of riddles.
Rather look about you and you shall see Him playing with your children.
And look into space; you shall see Him walking in the cloud, outstretching His arms in the lightning and descending in rain.
You shall see Him smiling in flowers, then rising and waving His hands in trees.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Religion XXVI
And an old priest said, "Speak to us of Religion."
And he said:
Have I spoken this day of aught else?
Is not religion all deeds and all reflection,
And that which is neither deed nor reflection, but a wonder and a surprise ever springing in the soul, even while the hands hew the stone or tend the loom?
Who can separate his faith from his actions, or his belief from his occupations?
Who can spread his hours before him, saying, "This for God and this for myself; This for my soul, and this other for my body?"
All your hours are wings that beat through space from self to self.
He who wears his morality but as his best garment were better naked.
The wind and the sun will tear no holes in his skin.
And he who defines his conduct by ethics imprisons his song-bird in a cage.
The freest song comes not through bars and wires.
And he to whom worshipping is a window, to open but also to shut, has not yet visited the house of his soul whose windows are from dawn to dawn.
Your daily life is your temple and your religion.
Whenever you enter into it take with you your all.
Take the plough and the forge and the mallet and the lute,
The things you have fashioned in necessity or for delight.
For in revery you cannot rise above your achievements nor fall lower than your failures.
And take with you all men:
For in adoration you cannot fly higher than their hopes nor humble yourself lower than their despair.
And if you would know God be not therefore a solver of riddles.
Rather look about you and you shall see Him playing with your children.
And look into space; you shall see Him walking in the cloud, outstretching His arms in the lightning and descending in rain.
You shall see Him smiling in flowers, then rising and waving His hands in trees.
poem by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sun Song
Today is the day to take it to the top
So head for the sun and don't you stop
Until you find the place where you belong
Let your life sing the sun song.
Rivers run dry, a beach is sand
Open your mind and try to understand
Spread your wings and fly to your sun
All you've gotta do is stand up and run.
Gain some speed
Run in the right direction
Open your wings
And fly at the suns reflection
It reflects onto you so you can shine
And beams down light so you can see the signs
It heals your soul with ultra violet rays
It sings your song do you hear what it says?
Can you hear it singing the sun song
Can you feel it, its been shining to you for so long
So why don't you just fly into its open arms
Don't lose your souls sun, your suns soul charms
Of your sun song.
poem by Mark Hopwood
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Wasteland
Out into the wasteland
Out into the wasteland
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion at all
No religion
Emissionary man amongst the heathen
Cant you see a modern primitive
I came back, Im gonna find,
Im gonna give religion
When there was, no religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
Theres a man in need of resurrection
(no religion)
Cant you see a modern primitive
(no religion)
But Im a man I need my love and
Freedom (no religion)
When there was no freedom at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion at all
No religion
No religion at all
In vr land
The future of fun
Tell me what to do
In vr law
Computer crime
Um, so sublime
A fantasy scene
In my machine
Give me secret of life
Let me know, yeah, what I am
And you know that I could get
Outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
So far from the the deadland
Ow, Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion yeah
Im outta the wasteland
So far from the the deadland
Yeah, Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion at all
No religion at all
No religion
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Is that Sing in me!
All the time listen to that great singer,
The great song, great lyrics sung with great melody,
Someone sings in me and everyone,
' I am you and you are me,
Come and see, we are one! '
But how in this turbulent flow of life,
Is it true, everyone listen this?
Some say caged bird sings,
Some say it is song of soul,
Some say it has a song and it sings,
some try to listen it, some say, when I have my own song how can I listen it?
Fantastic song it is, it the song of the divine,
Song of a dreamer, song of the captain of life,
some listen to it and forget what they are,
Some listen to it and follow the singer,
Some only try to find,
who is the singer,
Only a few can see the singer,
Look at the singer, listen the song,
Where one will be when absorbed by that divine song,
The song that enchanted me
The song that enchant everyone,
It is the God that sings,
' Ah, come to me,
Oh my child, wakeup from dream,
In this dream you are playing,
You are thinking, that you play at things,
wakeup and see, it is I am that playing!
Your sorrows are mine,
My sorrows are yours,
your body is not that cage,
It is my own temple, where I am playing my
own game! '
'Where you want to go,
You are not caged anytime
You only restricted yourself
Building a cage, you yourself sat inside
Then closed the door of cage
And that is the foolishness separated us'
'Oh dear child open the door at least that of window
of heart!
You went on sail, setting your own map,
But lured by various destinations,
One better than another, lost the plan and map,
Wonder and wander
here and there for
millions of years,
But had you listened my eternal song,
That has all maps and information,
You would have been with me as per the schedule
Only your own fall to attraction,
You lost your bag and baggage,
Whenever you lost that, you acquired new one,
But none of the bag had no map,
This time you are with the right one,
Right map, Radio, T.V., intranet and internet,
Just turn to me tuning to my station
Switching to my protocol and IP address,
Click at the linK
You feel, all fall and pain,
you find medicine outside
your ego,
Just cleanse It with tears of love,
Just apply cream of faith, go to work with head phones on in your ears,
Go to work which bring peace! '
'Where you are always free,
Don't kill my spirit, only come and sing with me,
My eternal song, come with me,
Oh my child, I am you and you are me,
Let us be one and sing, we are one in love,
We are always were not different,
We make our voice strong and loud so that,
Captains of missing ships can listen us,
Be my relay station helping my song to reach all! '
This is that song,
that eternal song,
sung by Almighty
in every heart!
The heart is chorus,
Is that source
Where He built
His temple and not a
cage to keep singing bird
in captivity or exile!
I am that his son now realised
I am that foolish
ungrateful son
put that infinite
eternal well wisher,
Melodious singer
My own father
Behind the bars!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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I Love You Dawn
I love you Dawn
You understand
The strength of ten
Men in your hands
It was another time
It was another place
All is not lost
And gone to waste
Beneath the tall trees I believe
There's nothing you and me
Can't do together if we try
The day is long and the nights are cold
Just a song to warm your soul
I don't want to see you cry
I love you Dawn
You understand
The strength of ten
Men in your hands
It was another tear
It was another time
All is not lost
And we will shine
Beneath the billboards and the hordes
Magazines and rock awards
We can't afford to pay our bills
The day is long and the nights are cold
Just a song to warm your soul
I don't want to see you cry
I love you Dawn
You understand
The strength of ten
Men in your hands
It was another tear, another year
Another time
All is not lost
And we will shine
song performed by by Crowded House
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My City Of Ruins
Theres a blood red circle
On the cold dark ground
And the rain is falling down
The church doors blown open
I can hear the organs song
But the congregations gone
My city of ruins
My city of ruins
Now the sweet veils of mercy
Drift through the evening trees
Young men on the corner
Like scattered leaves
The boarded up windows
The hustlers and thieves
While my brothers down on his knees
My city of ruins
My city of ruins
Come on rise up!
Come on rise up!
Now theres tears on the pillow
Darling where we slept
And you took my heart when you left
Without your sweet kiss
My soul is lost, my friend
Now tell me how do I begin again?
My citys in ruins
My citys in ruins
Now with these hands
I pray lord
With these hands
For the strength lord
With these hands
For the faith lord
With these hands
I pray lord
With these hands
For the strength lord
With these hands
For the faith lord
With these hands
Come on rise up!
Come on rise up!
Rise up
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Religion is doing; a man does not merely think his religion or feel it, he lives his religion as much as he is able, otherwise it is not religion but fantasy or philosophy. Whether he likes it or not he shows his attitude towards religion by his actions and he can show his attitude only by his actions.
quote by G.I. Gurdjieff
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Morality
We cannot kindle when we will
The fire which in the heart resides;
The spirit bloweth and is still,
In mystery our soul abides.
But tasks in hours of insight will'd
Can be through hours of gloom fulfill'd.
With aching hands and bleeding feet
We dig and heap, lay stone on stone;
We bear the burden and the heat
Of the long day, and wish 'twere done.
Not till the hours of light return,
All we have built do we discern.
Then, when the clouds are off the soul,
When thou dost bask in Nature's eye,
Ask, how she view'd thy self-control,
Thy struggling, task'd morality--
Nature, whose free, light, cheerful air,
Oft made thee, in thy gloom, despair.
And she, whose censure thou dost dread,
Whose eye thou wast afraid to seek,
See, on her face a glow is spread,
A strong emotion on her cheek!
'Ah, child!' she cries, 'that strife divine,
Whence was it, for it is not mine?
'There is no effort on my brow--
I do not strive, I do not weep;
I rush with the swift spheres and glow
In joy, and when I will, I sleep.
Yet that severe, that earnest air,
I saw, I felt it once--but where?
'I knew not yet the gauge of time,
Nor wore the manacles of space;
I felt it in some other clime,
I saw it in some other place.
'Twas when the heavenly house I trod,
And lay upon the breast of God.'
poem by Matthew Arnold
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Religion Of The Heart
His hair was Bible black, face like a priest
His fingers clutched the precious box and silent as a dream
He hid behind the dark sunglasses
You caught your breath
You thought he was beautiful
You didnt hear his silent scream
As he spread the dead mans ashes
Your always trying to find your worth
In the eyes of someone new
You may not think you need this baby but I think you do
You need religion of the heart, religion of the heart
(deep in your system)
Youre just searching in the dark
For a reason to believe
You need religion of the heart
You raise your glass, you drink their wine
But youre still thirsty all the time
No miracles tonight, and youll skip the midnight masses
Itll be okay in the cool clear, bright light of the day
But you just seem so scattered
As though nothing mattered baby
Youre always trying to heal yourself in someone elses skin
Turn the thieves out of the temple baby and let it in
You need religion of the heart, religion of the heart
(deep in your system)
Youre just searching in the dark
For a reason to believe
You need religion of the heart
Oh, you think that I am only joking, and it all comes down to nothing
And Im just talking to your fear but I m not
No, Im not, and you stand in the field of fire
You need religion of the heart, religion of the heart
(deep in your system)
Youre just searching in the dark
For a reason to believe
You need religion of the heart
Religion of the heart
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just as there is a lower carelessness which means death to the soul, so there is a higher carelessness which is the supreme gift of religion. We must all at length rest back upon God.
quote by W.E. Orchard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Interlude: Songs out of Sorrow
I. Spirit's House
From naked stones of agony
I will build a house for me;
As a mason all alone
I will raise it, stone by stone,
And every stone where I have bled
Will show a sign of dusky red.
I have not gone the way in vain,
For I have good of all my pain;
My spirit's quiet house will be
Built of naked stones I trod
On roads where I lost sight of God.
II. Mastery
I would not have a god come in
To shield me suddenly from sin,
And set my house of life to rights;
Nor angels with bright burning wings
Ordering my earthly thoughts and things;
Rather my own frail guttering lights
Wind blown and nearly beaten out;
Rather the terror of the nights
And long, sick groping after doubt;
Rather be lost than let my soul
Slip vaguely from my own control --
Of my own spirit let me be
In sole though feeble mastery.
III. Lessons
Unless I learn to ask no help
From any other soul but mine,
To seek no strength in waving reeds
Nor shade beneath a straggling pine;
Unless I learn to look at Grief
Unshrinking from her tear-blind eyes,
And take from Pleasure fearlessly
Whatever gifts will make me wise --
Unless I learn these things on earth,
Why was I ever given birth?
IV. Wisdom
When I have ceased to break my wings
Against the faultiness of things,
And learned that compromises wait
Behind each hardly opened gate,
When I can look Life in the eyes,
Grown calm and very coldly wise,
Life will have given me the Truth,
And taken in exchange -- my youth.
V. In a Burying Ground
This is the spot where I will lie
When life has had enough of me,
These are the grasses that will blow
Above me like a living sea.
These gay old lilies will not shrink
To draw their life from death of mine,
And I will give my body's fire
To make blue flowers on this vine.
"O Soul," I said, "have you no tears?
Was not the body dear to you?"
I heard my soul say carelessly,
"The myrtle flowers will grow more blue."
VI. Wood Song
I heard a wood thrush in the dusk
Twirl three notes and make a star --
My heart that walked with bitterness
Came back from very far.
Three shining notes were all he had,
And yet they made a starry call --
I caught life back against my breast
And kissed it, scars and all.
VII. Refuge
From my spirit's gray defeat,
From my pulse's flagging beat,
From my hopes that turned to sand
Sifting through my close-clenched hand,
From my own fault's slavery,
If I can sing, I still am free.
For with my singing I can make
A refuge for my spirit's sake,
A house of shining words, to be
My fragile immortality.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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From the age of fifteen, dogma has been the fundamental principle of my religion: I know no other religion; I cannot enter into the idea of any other sort of religion; religion, as a mere sentiment, is to me a dream and a mockery.
quote by John Henry Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In God's Horizon
it is in God's horizon that all are equal, regardless, of faith, sex, religion, race, even in our decision of where to end our lives our belief, has always been there to reminds the, thirsts of our soul, to a dream of dreams and a hope against hope, that this journey is worth to
live by
the immortal of soul is the only key we hold, to reach what is life everlasting, what we are today is not what we will bring us in life after death, it is our heart, our faith, our being one, our genuineness of belief, that would leads us to the beginning of life
the trust in our soul, woven with forgiveness, weaken God's wrath, that the harmony of a sinner and the giver of life, all things will be judged accordingly, in God's mercy, witness by our very own soul, when time has come to an end, death is certain and life final direction is on the horizon, be sure that in the moment of silence, whisper your soul that, in your heart
..... ' your happy in the company of angels singing hymn of praise with God of which you know Him '... in your soul and want to live through out Eternity.... in God's Horizon
poem by Antonio Liao
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The Only Export From One Age To The Other
the only export you can do
from one age to the other
from this world to the next
without getting any less an acquirer
is - a religion
the only all time export
the world has ever sold
with all its soul, blood and sweat
to another age is - a religon
the only export
from one age to the other
one would kill - with heart, mind and soul -
to prove what one has bought
is the real thing is - a religion
the only intangible commodity
yet powerful enough
to blow up the whole world
is - a religion
the only export
from one age to the other
wrapped in so much sweetness
tasted with as much bitterness
here and (beyond, if you have bought one)
is without doubt - religion
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Tried And True
At the dawn, I woke, I was alone... rising
I called upon the force of time and space... calling
And as she came, to me, I fell back down... realizing
Oh that it's cool for you to love me now... I'm everything
Everything - 'cause tried and true, I see the light in you
Oh can you dig in my soul, could you smell my whole... life?
You bent the edge, eclipsed, and turned around... aligning
And though the dark sparked rays of violet light... blinding
I went about the job of sowing thoughts... and feelings
Oh some were good, some bad, I felt the cries... of healing
'Cause tried and true, I see the light in you
Oh can you dig in my soul, could you smell my whole... life?
Rise, my Dawn, you've been awake too long
Let me rest in time, while I blow your mind
At the dawn I woke, I was alone... rising (I catch it)
I called upon the force of time and space... calling (see them)
And as she came to me, I fell back down... realizing (creation)
That it's cool for you to love me now... I'm everything (I am)
Everything - 'cause tried and true, I see the light in you
Can you dig in my soul, could you smell my whole... life?
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode to Clothes
Every morning you wait,
clothes, over a chair,
to fill yourself with
my vanity, my love,
my hope, my body.
Barely
risen from sleep,
I relinquish the water,
enter your sleeves,
my legs look for
the hollows of your legs,
and so embraced
by your indefatigable faithfulness
I rise, to tread the grass,
enter poetry,
consider through the windows,
the things,
the men, the women,
the deeds and the fights
go on forming me,
go on making me face things
working my hands,
opening my eyes,
using my mouth,
and so,
clothes,
I too go forming you,
extending your elbows,
snapping your threads,
and so your life expands
in the image of my life.
In the wind
you billow and snap
as if you were my soul,
at bad times
you cling
to my bones,
vacant, for the night,
darkness, sleep
populate with their phantoms
your wings and mine.
I wonder
if one day
a bullet
from the enemy
will leave you stained with my blood
and then
you will die with me
or one day
not quite
so dramatic
but simple,
you will fall ill,
clothes,
with me,
grow old
with me, with my body
and joined
we will enter
the earth.
Because of this
each day
I greet you
with reverence and then
you embrace me and I forget you,
because we are one
and we will go on
facing the wind, in the night,
the streets or the fight,
a single body,
one day, one day, some day, still.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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The Analogous
everything has
an analogy
for instance these hands
with fingers
are they not rivers and creeks
a source and
tributaries?
for instance this body
this temple
where my soul rests
this eye
this window of the house
the sun
the eye of the earth
a friend of the stars
the wonders of our longings
for instance
the silence
a dash in our talk
a space of our doubts
many more
for instance you and me
two hands in prayer
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Irresponsibility
give me a basin of water
also a bar of soap
i am washing my hands
let the voice
of the people decide
the faith of the
good, the bad,
and the ugly....
i am tired of all these
let me have some sleep
let morality decide upon itself
let religion be religion
let freedom be freedom unto itself
without us?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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No Dress Rehearsals (part II)
Their only rehearsal for parenting was
The mimicry of their parent’s actions
And unfortunately
There is no dress rehearsal for life
A vicious circle, and
Ignorance was to blame
I was shown how
I should eat food and
The food I should eat
Whether I liked it or not
The fear of God and the God of fear
Temporarily made me afraid of
How I should think about religion and
How religion will punish me if
I chose not to think about religion
We were to speak when spoken to and
We were to be seen but not heard, so
I chose to become unheard and unseen
I left home at an early age
poem by William Cavanagh
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For One And All
Ode those that would place their family, before their
own ambitions.
Ode, to the soul of our nation. Women. For if it is men,
that are the history, it is surely woman, that are the soul.
Ode, to those who provide, protect and guide
their loved ones.
Ode, to those that know the difference, between
compromising and belief.
Ode, to all who give their lives, in
time of war; especially the majority, for
they are mostly, from economically challenge areas.
Ode, to a rare breed of politician, who puts their
constitutes, before their political ambitions.
Ode to those that understand, that their religion is not
necessarily the one and true religion. For if that were
true, what of the billions of others, that have chosen
a religion, not likened to theirs?
Ode, to all who react, to the plight of those less fortunate.
Ode, to the parents of this world, who teach their children
the values of life and living.
Ode, to the countless millions, who give of themselves and
ask nothing in return.
Ode, to those who consciously attempt, to make this a better world.
For if we want a better world, each of us, must try and be better.
Ode, to the power, that causes words that are lodged in the
birth canal of life...to finally be born.