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God's....

what you have taken which is
not yours
shall be returned
with all the penalties and interest
and surcharges

what you have given with a meek heart
shall be returned too
in the same manner
but this Time it is God
that gives you more than
you can ever expect

must you choose greed then?
must you stick to avarice?

you give a seed
then you shall have a tree filled with fruits
and even birds
nest there and find their rest

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

The Phenomenology Of Giving

when you give you give because your heart likes it
your abundance flows from a container filled with so much
you give because having so much is also painful

the tree with many fruits too ripe for the season
gives them all away to the ground
the passers-by shall pick them
and have their thirst and hunger satisfied
the tree gives because there is no more reason for holding
the stalk gives up the weight that it is carrying
the tree has to shed leaves for another cycle
when the picker comes, the tree does not ask who is it
or for the reason why, whether it deserves it
it merely lets go every fruit
lest it be its own burden
for in truth giving away is also a form of relief
a cure of our maladies for greed,
a way of unloading our guilt
a way of erasing our avarice,
the final end to our disgrace.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two birds on a tree

Look at this old photograph..
some of these old photos look
more ancient than their, what,
hundred-and-twenty years;
as if the very air was different, then?

This one’s simply of
two birds in a tree:
one sits and watches;
the other eats the fruits..

this moment, frozen, framed, in time,
takes on the epic stature
of a metaphor, a myth:
what of the previous second
in our passing time? What
of the next second?
Where have those birds come from,
where may they go next?

If we cease to patronise
their ‘bird-brains’, see them
closer to their God than we
whose minds depart so far from nature…

if we think they think, in thoughts
which we may share – then,
what are they thinking? what
do they think of one another?
I look again at the photo, speculate;
the photo grows in my concern
to some great tree of primal Paradise…
the Tree of Knowledge, could it be?

Is the one bird thinking,
what a fine place this is to rest!
A place to hide, if so need be,
among its leaves; a height,
an observation post,
I still, the world about its business;
in stillness, I a little nearer to God,
just a little lower than the angels,
without beating my wings to find
a heaven above…

Is the other bird thinking,
what a fine restaurant I’ve found,
that God provided; I so hungry
on my way; how much I need to eat
to give me strength for further flight…

and have these two birds even noticed
each other, and each other’s state?
Are they two siblings from the self-same nest,
flying together through their lives;
loving one another until the last birdfall?
Two rivals, just about to fight to death?
Or, two fore-flyers of the same great flock,
about to land and strip the tree of fruit,
then rest, God-filled, to know Him in that stillness?

These thoughts; an ancient photograph;
now I wonder about the unknown photographer
who saw the world, in two birds on a tree.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fruits Of The Tree

What fruits we have!
Glittering with evil,
To shed innocent blood,
Shining with greed,
And we end in comfort that lasts only a moment

What fruits we bare!
Lost in ambition and passion
That we preach prosperity and success
As if they last an eternity
Swelling with pride that lasts a stint

Fruits of the tree
That the master has planted.
They can choose to ripen, or to stay raw!
They can choose to rot, or to stay ripe!
But, every fruit stands the test of time.

In the end, Ripe with truth and love,
Victory is imminent.
Rotten with deception and hatred,
Destruction waits:
The fruits from the tree of life

poem by Timothy muggaga
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SONNET: And This is Life!

Two Birds, a male and female met at last;
They found the tree on which to build their nest;
But soon, their little ones came rather fast;
The Birds hadn’t time for love-making or rest!

The Wind blew strongly; scorching was the Sun;
The Rain fell heavily upon their nest;
Rearing the young ones was both strain and fun;
Even a Snake came to their nest as guest1

But God helped them to find the worms for food;
And Spring replaced the Winter’s freezing cold;
The Birds laboured all life as best as could;
Their young ones turned adults; and they grew old!

When Death came like a robber in the night,
Both Birds never offered the slightest fight!

poem by John Celes
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A Bird's Happiness

A cherry hello to you
So the bird said to me
I asked him why he was happy
As he was sitting in a tree

I looked at him in the tree
And wondered what he was doing
Then he said that he saw a worm
And it was what he was pursuing

So we should take lessons
From the bird in the tree
Ashe was getting ready to build a nest
As he had use to be

Then he returned to his nest
As happy as could be
He sang and sang
As he was in the tree.

poem by Dolores Mahan
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That Is Perhaps What Poetry Is All About

a seed thrown on the ground
beside a bush, it grows and you do not notice.
it is sad to say, neglect does not bother.
time is its ally, and it begins to feel its roots
and leaves.it dreams of fruits.

the seed is now a tree, and it summons children
to play, to climb its branches and to reap its fruits.
that is its only joy. To give.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Ship That Never Returned

On a summer's day while the waves were rippling, with a quiet and a gentle breeze;
A ship set sail with a cargo laden for a port beyond the sea.