The Morning Is A Poem- The Slow Opening Of The Eyes
THE MORNING IS A POEM/ THE SLOW OPENING OF THE EYES
The morning is a poem
The slow opening of the eyes
The first Light-
What a World.
Oh God, Trees, Flowers-
Whatever I see
Gives Hope.
So much else more
Than just me inside-
God thank You for my eyes
The sight of this light
And these Dreams.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Morning Writes Its Own Poem
THE MORNING WRITES ITS OWN POEM
The morning writes its own poem
The light is its poem
We need the light of the morning
After the long darkness of night
The morning is hope
The morning is beginning
The morning is a new day
A new world -
We need the morning
And we need to begin again
And we need to feel life has hope
And we need to love the world
And to believe that walking out into it
Begins another day.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Is No Poem/Like The Poem Of The Morning
THERE IS NO POEM/ LIKE THE POEM OF THE MORNING
There is no poem
Like the poem of the morning-
The poem of beginning again-
The poem of light-
The poem of hope-
The poem of a new world.
Even when one is old,
The poem of the morning
Is a new poem.
And we need new poems.
We need mornings-
We need light-
We need hope-
The poem of a new day
Of beginning again
Even when one is old.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Good Morning!
On the days
He wakes up
Earlier than me,
I get a morning kiss
On my right cheek.
Without opening
My eyes I know,
Who it is from :)
It is my hubby
Wishing me…
Good Morning!
The Poem with the Picture is Here:
www.boloji.com/index.cfm? md=Content&sd=Poem&PoemID=10964
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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This Is My Poem
This is my poem of ______. (date)
This is my poem, written by myself.
This is my first poem never written.
This is my last poem now to be written.
This is the poem I would have written
if I had lived yesterday what I lived today.
This is my poem changing white light
into gold-leaf
and blue into violet.
This is my poem like a heaven twisting
and turning inside of me
all night long.
This is my poem of opening a window
to show what was always inside.
This is my poem encompassing everything
hope can bestow or chance agree with.
This is my poem of open-ended freedom.
This is my poem breathing life into motion.
This is my poem written as I wrote it
a living being.
And this is my poem ending;
but only for today..
poem by Patti Masterman
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There Is A Poem For Me Somewhere This Morning
THERE IS A POEM FOR ME SOMEWHERE THIS MORNING
There is a poem for me somewhere this morning
I will find it somehow
Perhaps it is in the memory of my father
Whose Yahrtzeit is today
Twenty- two years.
Perhaps it is as it is often
In the morning light
When I first walk outside to Shul
Perhaps it is in the deep need for a poem
For my own justification
Perhaps it is in my daughter’s search
For poems of inspiration
Perhaps it is in many things mixed together
Most of which I have not yet
And may never bring to mind
There is a poem for me somewhere this morning
I am writing it now
It is not beautiful
And not the best
And maybe even not much of a poem
There is a poem for me somewhere this morning
And I am not alone.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Know I Have A Poem Within Me
I KNOW I HAVE A POEM WITHIN ME
I know I have a poem within me
I feel myself waiting for it to be written
The morning light
Oh the morning light again
So old so tired so afraid so nowhere yet all my life
I try and try again
More words
More light
The morning is just beginning again
How many times have I written this poem?
How many times has God blessed me with the morning light?
So so much has been given me
And I am always feeling how I always lack.
Let the light shine for all of us this day, kindly.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Poem Begun In Darkness
A POEM BEGUN IN DARKNESS
A poem begun in darkness
Waits for morning light -
It knows the light will bring hope -
It understands that when a new day begins outside
Inside too there will be light-
A poem begun in darkness
Knows somehow it will end in light -
Better Light than Darkness
Better Hope than Fear
Better a new world
Than one which is waiting to die
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem Of Life Is Love
THE POEM OF THE MORNING IS LIGHT
The Poem of the Morning is Light
The Poem of the Night is Darkness
The Poem of Life is Love
The Poem of Death is Sadness.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem Comes From Somewhere Else
THE POEM COMES FROM SOMEWHERE ELSE
The poem comes from somewhere else-
From behind my mind,
The black the darkness.
Through the eyes,
The green the morning light.
The poem comes from somewhere else-
Beyond I-
God High God Nigh.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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He Walks Without A Poem
HE WALKS WITHOUT A POEM
He walks without a poem
There is no poem in his mind
No poem in his heart.
But the idea of a poem
The dream of a poem
The daily task of a poem
The justification given by a poem-
He stops and writes these words down.
All around him
the morning light sings songs
of the things
of this world.
A poem perhaps?
Perhaps not?
I
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem I have Written For So Long
THE POEM I HAVE WRITTEN FOR SO LONG
The poem I have written for so long
The simple lines –
Is not good enough.
Still the morning light on the trees
Is 'The morning light on the trees'
I cannot say it more specifically more precisely more beautifully-
Time will tell
I am already old
No one knows
Goodbye is goodbye-
The morning light is still on the trees.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Not Every Morning Is A Poem
NOT EVERY MORNING HAS A POEM
Not every morning has a poem
Not every morning has the light one needs
Not every morning is a new beginning
Not every morning is what morning should be.
Still this morning I will try
As I most often try
To feel from the first step outside
That morning is a new day.
God, how long has it been
With all these days and all this effort
And all these needings to begin again?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Ask The Morning Light
I ASK THE MORNING LIGHT
I ask the morning light,
To give me a poem-
The morning light is quiet-
The fresh cool air
Freezes my hand
As I write.
The light is so bright
So yellow so blue so green.
The poem has been given-
I am alive.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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How Many Times Have I Written The Morning As A Poem?
How many times have I written the morning as a poem?
This morning too is a poem-
How bright and beautiful
How filled with light
How flower- rich and spring scented
How quiet and calm
How new
How fresh the world beginning again
The morning is the poem today also
though I cannot know what will be
in the day to come.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Oh Poem Of The Cold Morning
OH POEM OF THE COLD MORNING
Oh poem of the cold morning
Oh cold harsh wind
Oh difficult day ahead-
Oh light which surprises us with the beauties of God’s world-
Oh poem of the cold morning
Light and more light.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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No Poem Can Say All We Are Inside
No poem can say all we are inside
There is so much given to our eyes
The Beauties of the world
Are truly for most of us indescribable-
I look out on the city of my life and love
How the morning light makes the yellow stone
Bright as hope
Simple and and clean as
An old man’s happiness.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Silence Is The Best Morning Poem
SILENCE IS THE BEST MORNING POEM
Silence is the best morning poem
The eyes listen best
When Quiet opens them.
Look at the light
Hear it whisper into
The beauty of
Who you are,
“Boker Tov.”
poem by Shalom Freedman
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If I Had A Poem Now
IF I HAD A POEM NOW
If I had a poem now
The light of the morning
Would be true light.
But the lines I have just written
Are not strong enough.
The light is still the light
And a new day
Is still a new day
The poem is perhaps
Somewhere else
Later.
So why do I write this,
And call it a poem now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Is A Poem No Morning Can Right
There is a poem no morning can right
It is the poem of the night
It is a dark poem and a deep poem
A poem of unrest and unquiet
It does not know its own name
And redefines itself through indecipherable disturbing dreams-
The poem of the night
Is not the poem I want to write-
But some nights it writes me without my asking for it-
And when the morning comes
I invariably rush to something else
So it may be erased.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Thought To Begin The Day With A Poem
I THOUGHT TO BEGIN THE DAY WITH A POEM
I thought to begin the day with a poem
But inside myself I hear only my own slow emptiness
Word by word I try to hear
And there is some small motion now
But still
A real poem
A poem of beauty
A poem of light
A poem of love
A poem that makes the dreamer long to dream-
And the lover long to love-
A poem that moves-
Well it is very very dark outside
And the world straining to give
Small rain to a dry land
Seems to say,
‘There may be a poem today
But it is not the poem you dream
Not the poem others will love
As you have loved
True poetry.’
poem by Shalom Freedman
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