The Mystery of Water
The clear smooth rain
Falls gently upon the ground;
Nothing else moves
Not a sound.
Grass and leaves
With fascinating joy glisten;
The natural world renewed in hope
Quietly waits, and carefully listens.
The gray clouds break
As the sun in brilliance comes dancing through;
The watered world below reflects
Great beauty of above, from a sky so blue.
The earth once again cleansed
And refreshed;
Through the mystery of water
We all are sustained, and blessed.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Related quotes
Rain Drops
Here comes the grey clouds
rolling in,
Spreading rain all over the
town.
Rain drops help to moisten
the earth's beautiful green
grass.
Sidewalks once dusty are
washed and cleaned.
Rivers and lakes are given
plenty more water.
Fishes swim around happy
beneath the rain drops,
creating millions of ripples
upon the water.
Flowers and plants no longer
Thirst,
Even trees and bushes seem
to dance after a good drink
of water,
Animals get their fill of
water too.
Just Like a shower,
Rain drops clean and
cleanse everything,
Leaving the earth refreshed
and renewed.
After the storm has passed,
The sun shines spreading its
warmth.
Rain drops that are left behind
on Flowers, plants, trees and
grass,
It is like heaven for many insects
to fill their thirsty little
mouths.
Without clouds we would have no
rain drops,
Without rain drops everything would
never be the same.
poem by Derek James
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Soft rain...
A soft rain is falling down across my brain
And the time of thoughts it’s lightning
A piece of heaven runs out, and still I know
The tired clouds rain on tears...
I do not know whether it is spring or autumn
A meaningless season has entered in the midst
Somewhere grizzled hair nor all fallen down..
Somewhere wet grass refreshed with daw...
Time, an invented notion, ephemeral
Moves in and out without asking my brain
tousle, sit, stand up in her eyes
make as if I feel, I love, nor shout...
On this crossing time over the plane
I measure it with light, water, leaves...
And my thoughts dissolve days and months
As throughout my brain the rain falls in silent...
poem by Vasil Marku
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To Me His Presence Is A Mystery
When havoc and disaster came my way
upon a tranquil sunny summer day
I had blamed God for being absent,
of my accusation He was innocent;
He is present in a world of iniquity
and to me His presence is a mystery.
I looked for God, Him I did not see,
His image, His presence eluded me
but I found His tracks everywhere,
in everything lovely His hand was there;
He is present in a world of iniquity
and to me His presence is a mystery
There was great beauty in a lone thrush
singing all the world to a holy hush,
the pattering rain brought along new birth
while He continually blessed the earth;
He is present in a world of iniquity
and to me His presence is a mystery.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Monsoons Back Home
the rain talks to me...softly
as it splatters down
on the green grass,
the rain talks to me knowingly,
as it brushes my nose
pressed against the window glass
it reminds me of the monsoons,
that must have arrived back in my land,
monsoons that greened the landscape,
as if with a magic wand................
the rain brings back, powerful memories
of hot pakoras and fragrant tea
so many things, so many images
the rain conveys to me...
people forever, sweating
, looking hopefully at the sky
praying to the rain Gods
not to let the crops die,
and finally the rain Gods answer...
with black sheets of welcome rain
that time of season
has finally arrived again.......
no lover waits more eagerly for its beloved,
than my people, waiting for the rain
the heavenly smell of mangoes
and the cry of the cuckoo bird
the buzzing of insects and
many strange sounds, till now unheard,
all bring back the magic, the romance
of the rains....
the magical silver moon
how it waxes and wanes...............
the rain talks to me.......
..
and here in a new land
the rain wafts down gently
, my heart is back home
though I am here presently,
how beautiful and soothing
is the sound that it makes
will cleanse out my soul
and fill up the lakes........
the rain speaks to me softly..........
and when the clouds have lightened
and watered the earth,
the flowers have brightened,
the butterflies dance in mirth,
my soul has been cleansed
and my spirits uplifted
what a beautiful sight, nature has gifted
the rain and I
finish our conversation,
a revival of hopes, a joyous observation
Im refreshed and happy,
my soul has been lightened
the longing and sadness
have cleverly been quietened,
by the rain,
so softly it spoke to me.....
as it continued, its quenching jouney
I love the soft splattering
the incessant chattering,
sometimes in slanting sheets,
sometimes it almost beats
my face, and soaks me to the bone
I love its insistent, sometimes thundering tone..
so gently, so softly
when it speaks to me
of happy times that will be....
I love the rain.................
poem by Arti Chopra
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The Latter Rain
Behold how the atomized droplets of the ocean
Are sun-powered and airlifted to the waiting clouds,
There to be electrified by God's thunder and lightning.
Hear how they break the eternal silence of infinite space!
Blessed from above, rain falls without fully falling,
As if its awesome immensity taps at our life -
Either as God's celestial shower of magnanimous mercy
Or worldwide cascading waterfalls of life's existence,
Revitalised rain emptying itself so that the world below survives!
Mankind's cleansed of its failure or excess, all is derailed...
What's ours by our birthright is creation in its wholeness.
Behold the rain, its service is free to one and all...
Its faith is in our universal humanity -
Ever bent by sin yet seeking that same level with Heaven,
We are like the rain, nourishing the weary Earth once more
With the repeated rapture of this wondrous redeeming desire.
poem by Denis Martindale
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There And Back Again For Jt Ellison
The river flows unhurriedly
on its long journey to the sea
Sometimes flows fast and sometimes slow.
It does not matter really though
.
All rivers will eventually
become part of the great salt sea.
From whence they came as clouds and rain
to which they must return again
The sea and Sun co operate.
Evaporate, precipitate
Recycling water constantly.
All rivers flow into the sea.
Where they evaporate and rise
as water vapour to the skies.
The chill will change its state again
from water vapour into rain.
Which falls upon the earth below
to nourish all the plants that grow
Without the rain then there would be
no rivers flowing to the sea.
The world be a desert place
of growing plants no single trace.
A world of grey and brown and dun
Defeated by the burning sun.
Although the rain can be a curse
no rain at all would be much worse.
Accepting philosophically
the rain must fall and frequently.
Though sometimes inconveniently
Without the rain where would be
Extinct I think without a doubt
I much prefer the rain to drought.
Though it may rain on your parade
and spoil the plans which you have made.
You should be thankful for the rain,
you have small reason to complain.
Nature recycles constantly.
water the prime necessity.
If she did not then we would die
Beneath a blue and cloudless sky.
6-Dec-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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An Early Morning Walk
i had a walk this morning
and i saw twilight
fog hovering still on the feet of the mountains
there is beauty in haze
in the opaqueness of smog
i inhale cold air inside my lungs
and walk faster
there is dew on the grass
as fingers of light comes out from the hazy fog
herons arrive and land on the green fields
catching the frogs
the brown cow is munching grass inside its mouth
still lying comfortably on the ground
the macopa tree shed its leaves
in favor of new shiny ones
the trail is clear
no one has arrived here yet
it is about to rain with all the gray clouds lumping in the sky
ah, i am not running for shelter.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The House Of Dust: Part 04: 04: Counterpoint: Two Rooms
He, in the room above, grown old and tired,
She, in the room below—his floor her ceiling—
Pursue their separate dreams. He turns his light,
And throws himself on the bed, face down, in laughter. . . .
She, by the window, smiles at a starlight night,
His watch—the same he has heard these cycles of ages—
Wearily chimes at seconds beneath his pillow.
The clock, upon her mantelpiece, strikes nine.
The night wears on. She hears dull steps above her.
The world whirs on. . . .New stars come up to shine.
His youth—far off—he sees it brightly walking
In a golden cloud. . . .Wings flashing about it. . . . Darkness
Walls it around with dripping enormous walls.
Old age—far off—her death—what do they matter?
Down the smooth purple night a streaked star falls.
She hears slow steps in the street—they chime like music;
They climb to her heart, they break and flower in beauty,
Along her veins they glisten and ring and burn. . . .
He hears his own slow steps tread down to silence.
Far off they pass. He knows they will never return.
Far off—on a smooth dark road—he hears them faintly.
The road, like a sombre river, quietly flowing,
Moves among murmurous walls. A deeper breath
Swells them to sound: he hears his steps more clearly.
And death seems nearer to him: or he to death.
What's death?—She smiles. The cool stone hurts her elbows.
The last of the rain-drops gather and fall from elm-boughs,
She sees them glisten and break. The arc-lamp sings,
The new leaves dip in the warm wet air and fragrance.
A sparrow whirs to the eaves, and shakes his wings.
What's death—what's death? The spring returns like music,
The trees are like dark lovers who dream in starlight,
The soft grey clouds go over the stars like dreams.
The cool stone wounds her arms to pain, to pleasure.
Under the lamp a circle of wet street gleams. . . .
And death seems far away, a thing of roses,
A golden portal, where golden music closes,
Death seems far away:
And spring returns, the countless singing of lovers,
And spring returns to stay. . . .
He, in the room above, grown old and tired,
Flings himself on the bed, face down, in laughter,
And clenches his hands, and remembers, and desires to die.
And she, by the window, smiles at a night of starlight.
. . . The soft grey clouds go slowly across the sky.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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A Rainy Day
Slipping through the open sash.
Cool wet freshness
draws me from the depth
of my slumber's darkness.
The gentle cadence
of falling rain.
Its soft pelt splashing
upon the window pane.
Coursing down
the glass transparency.
Rivulets of wetness
distort the world outside I see
A canopy of leaves
keeps dry a nest
of fledgling birds.
While they rest.
Bright golden sun
now hidden away.
By gray clouds
whose visit pay.
The rain they bring
falls on dry earth.
To cleanse and quench
coax forth rebirth.
On a rainy day
the world I see.
Quiet soft gentle
A world of peace to me.
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Songs Of The Sky
In a sky of layered clouds,
dawn becomes a rainbow,
moving through the spectrum
toward the day.
In a sky of always blue,
no clouds ride the wind:
the sun burns brightly,
high and hot and long.
In a sky of may grays,
clouds crash, explode and roar;
rain-filled winds sweep across the prairie.
In a sky of many blues,
clouds dance on the wind;
and endless and quixotic
Rohrschach test.
In a sky of always gray,
no clouds seem to move;
overcast blots out imagination.
In a sky of cold, cold blue,
gray clouds scrape the treetops;
harbingers of winter storms to come.
Beneath a sky of darkening gray,
the prairie grasses rustle
on the small, forgotten farms
of what could've been
and was.
In a sky of mottled gray,
cold rains fall, now and then;
the seasons struggle
for control of April.
In a sky of broken gray,
cold winds precede the rains;
and before long
the darkened clouds re-gather.
In a sky as clear as glass,
and blue from top to bottom,
sultry days of August
slowly drift into September.
In a twi-lit noon-time sky,
this annular eclipse
leaves us just a
ring around the moon.
In a sky of many clouds,
sunset's an inferno;
ablaze, in this,
my father's final twilight.
In a sky that slowly burns,
the clouds of fire fade
and leave a darker beauty
to hold the night.
poem by William Kruse
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The Water That Quenches Your Thirst
at four o'clock in the morning you wake up.
blood is boiling and you look for water to quench the fire.
there is no water in the kitchen.
you go upstairs
no one is there.
you open the window
there is no rain.
it is just the silence of the world
that becomes the water
to your soul.
you drink every moment of this silence.
every dew
in the leaves
of the tree of
solitude
you are refreshed and from that moment on
you know where water
is.
what dew is
what leaves are.
there is a thirst that you have just
defined.
it is not their water
neither yours.
it is beyond the ownership of everyone.
and you know
now
where to find it
because you
also know
what it
really
is
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Counterpoint: Two Rooms
He, in the room above, grown old and tired;
She, in the room below, his floor her ceiling,
Pursue their separate dreams. He turns his light,
And throws himself on the bed, face down, in laughter.
She, by the window, smiles at a starlight night.
His watch—the same he has heard these cycles of ages—
Wearily chimes at seconds beneath his pillow.
The clock upon her mantelpiece strikes nine.
The night wears on. She hears dull steps above her.
The world whirs on. New stars come up to shine.
His youth—far off—he sees it brightly walking
In a golden cloud .... wings flashing about it....
Darkness
Walls it around with dripping enormous walls.
Old age, far off—or death—what do they matter?
Down the smooth purple night a streaked star falls.
She hears slow steps in the street; they chime like music,
They climb to her heart, they break and flower in beauty,
Along her veins they glisten and ring and burn.
He hears his own slow steps tread down to silence.
Far off they pass. He knows they will never return.
Far off, on a smooth dark road, he hears them faintly.
The road, like a sombre river, quietly flowing,
Moves among murmurous walls. A deeper breath
Swells them to sound: he hears his steps more clearly.
And death seems nearer to him; or he to death.
What's death?—she smiles. The cool stone hurts her elbow,
The last few raindrops gather and fall from elm-boughs,
She sees them glisten and break. The arc-lamp sings,
The new leaves dip in the warm wet air and fragrance,
A sparrbw whirs to the eaves and shakes its wings.
What's death—what's death ? The spring returns like music ;
The trees are like dark lovers who dream in starlight;
The soft grey clouds go over the stars like dreams.
The cool stone wounds her arms to pain, to pleasure.
Under the lamp a circle of wet street gleams.
And death seems far away—a thing of roses,
A golden portal where golden music closes,
Death seems far away;
And spring returns, the countless singing of lovers,
And spring returns to stay....
He, in the room above, grown old and tired,
Flings himself on the bed, face down, in laughter,
And clenches his hands, and remembers, and desires to die.
And she, by the window, smiles at a night of starlight....
The soft grey clouds go slowly across the sky.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty Of Love!
Beauty reflects in the behaviour and performance;
Beauty lives in loving care, kind words, gentle act;
Outward love is the index of inner beauty of soul!
Beauty thrives on art, music and poetry forever;
Natural beauty reflects the beauty of God ever;
Beautiful music reflects voice of God beautiful!
Beauty, music and love are where heaven exists
Making life ever enjoyable to live on the Earth with
Colourful Sky, birds and flowers as back ground!
Morning Sunrise with birds singing to wake one
The day begins with beauty and joy to see again
Beautiful happenings of day's work to satisfaction!
Evening Moon-rise preceding Stars in the night Sky
Twinkling as diamond jewels is beauty eternal to peace!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Spring
Wake up again, sad heart, wake up again !
(I heard the birds this morning singing sweet.)
Wake up again ! The sky was crystal clear,
And washed quite clean with rain ;
And tar below my heart stirred with the year,
Stirred with the year and sighed. O pallid feet
Move now at last, O heart that sleeps with pain
Rise up and hear
The voices in the valleys, run to meet
The songs and shadows. O wake up again !
Put out green leaves, dead tree, put out green leaves t
(Last night the moon was soft and kissed the air.)
Put out green leaves ! The moon was in the skies,
All night she wakes and weaves.
The dew was on the grass like fairies' eyes,
Like fairies' eyes. O trees so black and bare,
Remember all the fruits, the full gold sheaves;
For nothing dies,
The songs that are, are silences that were,
Summer was Winter. O put but green leaves!
Break through the earth, pale flower, break through the earth !
(All day the lark has sung a madrigal.)
Break through the earth that lies not lightly yet
And waits thy patient birth,
Waits for the jonquil and the violet,
The violet. Full soon the heavy pall
Will be a bed, and in the noon of mirth
Some rivulet
Will bubble in my wilderness, some call
Will touch my silence. O break through the earth.
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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A little fall of rain
My morning starts
With teardrops in my eyes
Like a little fall of rain
In my heart I feel the pain
And the tearless earth
Is longing for, a little fall of rain?
That is what they needed.
I watched the world go by in silence
Humming in old familiar string
As I listened to the music of wind
A mournful cry that’s what I perceive
One by one you fall on the ground
Why do I feel sad?
From a little fall of rain
Why the leaves are looking glowing?
Trees and flowers are suddenly bloom
Then the rivers never stop flowing
In every moment, you pass by
They all so glad and welcome you
A little fall of rain that comes from heaven
You’re always a wonder for them
The sun hides on a cloudy sky.
Even the rainbow never used to smile at
The birds were then stopped singing
Neither the clouds have to stop dancing
A little fall of rain
Looked what you have done?
My tears were a fall on the ground
poem by Cheryl Aldea
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Here Comes 'The Rain
Clear blue skies, the high is day,
here comes 'The Rain',
skies fog and are blanketed in gray.
Here comes 'The Rain', washing my smile away.
Clear puddles all around,
then lightening streaks, thunderous sounds.
'The Rain' brought about my frown,
night falls and 'The Rain' wears a gown,
Here comes 'The Rain', bringing me down.
poem by Careema Cooper
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Big Storm, The Rain Falls
The rain falls like leaves and snow.
It stutters and mutters
And bounces and flows.
The rain falls like a big black crow,
Flapping and cawing
And thrashing and crashing.
The rain falls like spades of earth
Tossed on the grave of summer mirth.
The rain falls like a magic spell:
Billions of droplets singing their songs.
The rain falls like a lover's kisses,
Wet on the flesh of the trembling earth.
The rain falls like a forest of time,
Shimmering seconds, liquid and cold.
The rain falls like an ancient story,
Trickling on roots, twisted and old.
poem by Norm Milstein
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What a wonderful world of nature...
When the early morning is born with heavenly blessed
When the bright sun rays shower through the misty clouds
When the birds choir being to chirp their songs on the trees
then the day being with a wonderful of nature.
I can feel the Mother Nature touches me with her love
I can feel the nature illuminates my heart and brighten my soul
I can see the green grass in summer-spread lovely
I can see the flowers in the spring bloomed lavishly
I can see the leaves falls in the autumn covered earth greatly
I can see the trees full of snow in the winter sprinkled
I can see the stream water gurgles from the mountain
I can see the fauna in the jungles freely set to live happily
I can see the barren lands wet and fertile
Not only they are beautiful in nature
but they serve a purpose for us
Not only they are beauty as forest
but they serve food and water for us
Always, praise the God and thank HIM for HIS beautiful creation
What a wonderful world of nature that you and me live.
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Foot Prints
(anderson/squire/howe/white)
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
(only when you stop to listen)
Looking for the mystery in the woman
(only when you start to see) [stop to see]
Dancing with the teacher in the circle
(only when you watching for them) [... you want direction]
Watching for the reasons we are going
(only when you stop to listen)
Getting ready for the big bang
Everybody looking for that great connection
Somebody help me find that universal dream
Everybody watching
Is something happning? [theres something happening]
See what I mean?
(only when you stop to listen)
Looking for the real man
(only when you stop to breath)
Looking for the teacher
(dancing with the majesty of knowing)
Dancing with the circle
(only when you start to see) [...you stop to see]
Looking for the real world
Everybody knows where were going to
Dont forget to leave good footprints behind
Never let the grass grow over your soul
Only time will tell
Leave good footprints behind
I can see the way [i have seen the way]
The way is clear
To save your love
High upon the sky
The forces come [the force has come]
To break me free [to break you free]
Forgiving is what you have
Forgiving is what you see
Forgiving is what you know
Forgiving is all you are
I have seen the way
The way is clear
Beyond your soul
I can see the way [i have seen the way]
The way is clear
To save your love
High upon the sky
The forces come [the force has come]
To break me free [to break you free]
Forgiving is what you have
Forgiving is what you see
They say the soul
Has so many lifetimes
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
Only when you stop to listen
Only when you start to see
Forgiving is what you have
Forgiving is what you see
Forgiving is what you know
Forgiving is all you are
I can see the way
The way is clear
To save your soul
I have seen the way
The way is clear
Beyond your soul
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
Dont forget to leave good footprints behind
Dont forget to leave good footprints behind
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Foot Prints
(anderson/squire/howe/white)
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
(only when you stop to listen)
Looking for the mystery in the woman
(only when you start to see) [stop to see]
Dancing with the teacher in the circle
(only when you watching for them) [... you want direction]
Watching for the reasons we are going
(only when you stop to listen)
Getting ready for the big bang
Everybody looking for that great connection
Somebody help me find that universal dream
Everybody watching
Is something happning? [theres something happening]
See what I mean?
(only when you stop to listen)
Looking for the real man
(only when you stop to breath)
Looking for the teacher
(dancing with the majesty of knowing)
Dancing with the circle
(only when you start to see) [...you stop to see]
Looking for the real world
Everybody knows where were going to
Dont forget to leave good footprints behind
Never let the grass grow over your soul
Only time will tell
Leave good footprints behind
I can see the way [i have seen the way]
The way is clear
To save your love
High upon the sky
The forces come [the force has come]
To break me free [to break you free]
Forgiving is what you have
Forgiving is what you see
Forgiving is what you know
Forgiving is all you are
I have seen the way
The way is clear
Beyond your soul
I can see the way [i have seen the way]
The way is clear
To save your love
High upon the sky
The forces come [the force has come]
To break me free [to break you free]
Forgiving is what you have
Forgiving is what you see
They say the soul
Has so many lifetimes
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
Only when you stop to listen
Only when you start to see
Forgiving is what you have
Forgiving is what you see
Forgiving is what you know
Forgiving is all you are
I can see the way
The way is clear
To save your soul
I have seen the way
The way is clear
Beyond your soul
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
My eyes see the coming revolution
My eyes see the glory of the world
Dont forget to leave good footprints behind
Dont forget to leave good footprints behind
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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