The Obscure Sense Of The Presence Of God
I see how the evening sun lights
the high grass, trees shift in the gentle wind
and small brown birds flit between
outdoor tables as young women
reach for coffee cups
dropp sweet crumbs to the rough sidewalk,
to the birds. Intent on home-work,
office-work, they never look up
to see how the sky
deepens to darker hue;
how day will fade soon
and vermillion night set fire
to the seaward hills.
The west wind will finally drive them in,
and the grateful birds will all fly away.
I see it all.
My old eyes know how this old world works,
how Your love lurks even in the weeds
that grow on the edge of the most
tended garden; hides in the cries of
the grieving mourning dove;
falls like rain in the tender,
moonless night.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Nest of Love
One night, the rain drizzled,
The thunder trembled window panes,
The lightning fenced,
And the coco in yard its head did lose.
The trunk stood in silence,
As a question mark,
Until the brown birds
Came the top their nest to make.
Sights out my eyes filter:
The birds flutter their wings,
One rounds, and the other
Lowers and cedes,
In the morns wet with vapour,
Until the stir of red open tender beaks.
One even, the west wind
Pushed the trunk down.
Chicks two fell onto the sand,
Just a wriggle, then still in the down.
The birds the sky hovered,
Their shrieks tore the layers of night.
Sleepless, in vain I tried
To learn their art of love so deep and sweet.
poem by Fabiyas M V
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Important Birds
Important findings have been made,
Disorders are realised for the people.
Geese shall sound in the skies
To enlighten a few who listen.
Many times a day, the sounds of birds
Arrive and shake the disorder.
An albatross hurts me further,
An eagle has no home here, but further.
Let importance be the guide not the wind,
For wind is reluctant in the eyes of us.
The sky has abandoned the birds at night,
Or have the birds abandoned the night-sky?
Geese and swans are beautiful birds,
But where are all the seagulls?
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mandilyn
As I lie on the grass
In the field upon my back,
At the heavens as I stare,
To remember my love, who now is there.
The clouds they shape her gentle form
The birds they sing her happy song,
The wind again it speaks her name,
As I hear it call for Mandilyn.
Oh how I long for her gentle touch,
How I long for her gentle kiss,
How I long for her loving hug,
Oh Wife, my life, you I miss.
I close my eyes and I see your face,
Lying beside me upon the grass,
Laughing and smiling we are again,
But when I open my eyes, you are gone again.
I see you walking rose in hand,
In the heavens your above this man,
Happy again I see you are,
Oh death, why be you so far.
The clouds they then turn a misty gray,
The wind has stopped calling her name,
The birds they all have flown away,
Then upon my face, it begins to rain.
But is it rain, or is it tears,
Falling from heaven upon this Man,
It is as though my wife’s trying to say,
In heaven again we’ll be together someday.
As I arise from the grass,
I leave the field into the night,
Death it came and it tempted my soul,
But then it left, when my Wife’s love did grow.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
While The Birds Sing At The Top Of The Tree
Rivers flow lonely to the sea,
When the sunset is coming down,
While the birds sing at the top of the tree.
The garden is flourishing in the spring,
Little pieces of the rain fall on the edge of the street,
While the birds sing at the top of the tree.
The cold in the hills,
The forest still sleeps in silence
While the birds sing at the top of the tree.
Love always falls and rises,
Leaving happiness, broken hearts and tears,
While the birds sing at the top of the tree.
poem by Lindemberg Pereira da Silva
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If You Go Away
If you go away on this summer day
Then you might as well take the sun away
All the birds that flew in a summer sky
When our love was new and our hearts were high
When the day was young and the night was lo-ong
And the moon stood still for the night birds song
If you go away, If you go away, If you go away
But if you stay I'll make you a day
Like no day has been or will be again
We'll sail on the sun, we'll ride on the rain
We'll talk to the trees and worship the wind
Then if you go-o I'll understand
Leave me just enough love to fill up my hand
If you go away, If you go away, If you go away
If you go away as I know you must
There'll be nothin' left in the world to trust
Just an empty room full of empty space
Like the empty look I see on your face
Can I tell you now as you turn to go
I'll be dying slowly till your next hello
If you go away, If you go away, If you go away
But if you stay, I'll make you a night
Like no night has been or will be again
I'll sail on your smile, I'll ride on your touch
I'll talk to your eyes that I-I love so much
But if you go, I won't cry
For the good's gone from goodbye
If you go away, If you go away, If you go away-ay-ay-ay
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sky's Bird
Do you still remember the color of the night,
How endless it seemed to go out to,
So stunning, yet frightnening its beauty was
Like a sky calling the birds, you can't resist its cry.
Another morning rises up,
As another dream falls down,
And even though I know its going to disappear,
I don't want to let go.
It's like the sun and moon,
Always going around and around,
Never meeting up with one another.
The shadow of reality,
Cast this illusion onto my life,
So I don't what's real and what isn't,
Holding on tight, I never plan to let go of my beliefs!
I believe in a night that draws you in,
No matter how hard you fight back,
Even though it may grow tiring,
You'll always run back like the birds do to the sky.
Escaping its grasp is inevitable,
If you resist too much, you might lose yourself,
But even though it was once your home,
You'll always have a place to fly back to like the birds to the sky,
Like the birds, like the birds, do to the sky,
Like the birds like the birds, do to the sky.
poem by Alex McCullough
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
THE BLISS OF MY OWN SILENCE (revised)
in this place
the first thing that i hear every morning
is the song of the birds
on top of trees
as they prepare to leave
after a night's sleep
as i open my window
and light is still young like some eyes blinking
i wonder
what are these birds up to?
they do not build their nests here
they just come
spend a night and then leave and are back again
on the same hour of the another night
i try to ask more questions
that i myself have to answer
but then
something comes up within
the reasons do not really matter
it is their songs
the harmony with the wind
the joy of the trees
the bliss
of my own silence....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Bless Of My Own Silence....
in this place
the first thing that i hear every morning
is the song of the birds
on top of trees
as they prepare to leave
after a night's sleep
as i open my window
and light is still young like some eyes blinking
i wonder
what are these birds up to
they do not build their nests here
they just come
spend a night and then leave and are back again
on the same hour of the same night
i try to ask more questions
that i myself have to answer
but then
something comes up within
the reasons do not really matter
it is their songs
the harmony with the wind
the joy of the trees
the bliss
of my own silence....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In and outside worlds
When I was small
we had a green carpet
in the living room
that like a lawn
stretched out wide, thick and luxurious.
The ceiling was the sky,
big fans made wind
and lights came on at night
like suns.
The shower was
where you make your own rain
to be cleaned
and every tap a small fountain.
Sometimes a bird
flew into the house
and was cordoned off
and flew everywhere
and completed the picture
of man’s inner world
to me.
Still man just copies
the Creator
and outside the sky is stretched out,
every night full of stars
and day after day the sun appears
and the wind blows
as it find it necessary
and all the birds fly free
and the grass spread by itself.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sailor's Garden
There's a soft wind singing in the idle rigging,
High tide splashing, and a young pale moon,
Lights in a window and a fiddle jigging
Over and over there the same short tune.
Oh, was it the tide along the ship's side sighing,
Or was it the sighing wind that breaths and blows,
Came like a voice across the deep crying,
Set my heart a-thinking how my garden grows?
Five years ago it was I planted roses,
Five years ago (the bush is grown a tree):
Five years ago, and once I've seen my posies,
Five years ago - and once they bloomed for me!
I was home in Spring, bloom was in May then,
Birds all were building and buds were on the tree!
When the birds were flown, oh, I was far away then;
When the rose was open I was far at sea.
I was home in autumn; winds of cold November
Shaking the leaf that shivered on the tree;
Brown leaves that sighed of sorrow to remember
Flowers that had fallen and I far at sea.
Oh, many are the roads that lead you here and yonder,
Oh, many are the ways about the world that go;
But the longest way of all's the sailor's way to wander
To the good North Country and an Isle I know.
Oh, many are the winds about the seas a-singing,
Oh, many are the songs they sing both night and noon:
But whether it be good or ill that they come bringing
The best of all's the wind that blows us home in June.
Home, home in June - and soon to be a-going;
Home, home in June - we may not long remain;
Home, home in June, just to see the garden growing,
And then fare you well till you greet us home again.
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Compensation
In that new world toward which our feet are set,
Shall we find aught to make our hearts forget
Earth's homely joys and her bright hours of bliss?
Has heaven a spell divine enough for this?
For who the pleasure of the spring shall tell
When on the leafless stalk the brown buds swell,
When the grass brightens and the days grow long,
And little birds break out in rippling song?
O sweet the dropping eve, the blush of morn,
The starlit sky, the rustling fields of corn,
The soft airs blowing from the freshening seas,
The sunflecked shadow of the stately trees,
The mellow thunder and the lulling rain,
The warm, delicious, happy summer rain,
When the grass brightens and the days grow long,
And little birds break out in rippling song!
O beauty manifold, from morn till night,
Dawn's flush, noon's blaze and sunset's tender light!
O fair, familiar features, changes sweet
Of her revolving seasons, storm and sleet
And golden calm, as slow she wheels through space,
From snow to roses, - and how dear her face,
When the grass brightens, when the days grow long,
And little birds break out in rippling song!
O happy earth! O home so well beloved!
What recompense have we, from thee removed?
One hope we have that overtops the whole, -
The hope of finding every vanished soul,
We love and long for daily, and for this
Gladly we turn from thee, and all thy bliss,
Even at thy loveliest, when the days are long,
And little birds break out in rippling song.
poem by Celia Thaxter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Summer's Here
The crackling of the fire,
The howl of the wind against my window,
The chirping birds in the night sky,
Makes me smile, happily,
But the death of the fire,
The wind just softly blowing,
And the silence of the birds in the night sky,
Makes me sad,
Because, winter is ending and summer is beginning.
poem by Sophie Shaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My heart shall be thy garden
My heart shall be thy garden. Come, my own,
Into thy garden; thine be happy hours
Among my fairest thoughts, my tallest flowers,
From root to crowning petal, thine alone.
Thine is the place from where the seeds are sown
Up to the sky inclosed, with all its showers.
But ah, the birds, the birds! Who shall build bowers
To keep these thine? O friend, the birds have flown.
For as these come and go, and quit our pine
To follow the sweet season, or, new-corners,
Sing one song only from our alder-trees,
My heart has thoughts, which, though thine eyes hold mine.
Flit to the silent world and other summers,
With wings that dip beyond the silver seas.
poem by Alice Meynell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Dawn Wind
The Fifteenth Century
At two o'clock in the morning, if you open your window and
listen,
You will hear the feet of the Wind that is going to call the sun.
And the trees in the shadow rustle, and the trees in the moonlight
glisten,
And though it is deep, dark night, you feel that the night is
done.
So do the cows in the field. They graze for an hour and lie down,
Dozing and chewing the cud; or a bird in the ivy wakes,
Chirrups one note and is still, and the restless Wind stares on,
Fidgeting far down the road, till, softly, the darkness breaks.
Back comes the Wind full strength with a blow like an angel's
wing,
Gentle but waking the world, as he shouts: "The Sun! The
Sun!"
And the light floods over the fields and the birds begin to sing,
And the Wind dies down in the grass. It is day and his work
is done.
So when the world is asleep, and there seems no hope of her
waking
Out of some long, bad dream that makes her mutter and moan,
Suddenly, all men arise to the noise of fetters breaking,
And every one smiles at his neighbor and tells him his soul is
his own!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What happened to the lovely woman
What happened to the lovely woman
that every night
I wanted to hold against me
and where is she now
and is there still wind
blowing through her long autumn hair
on the porch
and are her fingers still busy
paging through poetry books
and do her soft sent still hang
on the evening wind
fresh like spring rain
at times it feels as if you fade away
and our love wants to take
another course
and maybe it was only a dream,
but from it
I never want to wake
and every moment it becomes more real
and I know that it’s not past
when you bring me a cup of coffee
and we look at doves
and other birds,
that prettily coos and sings
while they pick up seed
and I feel your hot hand
pressing mine full of love
and I know where you are
and how happy
this dreamer really is.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
By Morning Twilight
Night, like a dying mother,
Eyes her young offspring, Day.
The birds are dreamily piping.
And O, my love, my darling!
The night is life ebb'd away:
Away beyond our reach!
A sea that has cast us pale on the beach;
Weeds with the weeds and the pebbles
That hear the lone tamarisk rooted in sand
Sway
With the song of the sea to the land.
poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fly with the wind
I want to be a bird
so beautiful and free
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be a swan
so graceful and pure
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be a hawk
with eyes that see the soul
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be an owl
wise queen of the night
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be a dove
bringing good luck to many
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be a parrot
with colors and wit
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be a nightingale
with the sweetest of voices
i want to fly like the wind
I want to be a raven
Darker than a starless night
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be me
and if I'm accepted
I will fly with the wind
poem by Alexianna Brandhagen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
May Song
BIRDS in the green of my garden
Blackbirds and throstle and wren,
Wet your dear wings in the tears that are Spring's
And so to your singing again!
Birds in my blossoming orchard,
Chaffinch and goldfinch and lark,
Preen your bright wings, little happy live things;
The May trees grow white in the park!
Birds in the leafy wet woodlands,
Cuckoo and nightingale brown,
Sing to the sound of the rain on green ground--
The rain on green leaves dripping down!
Fresh with the rain of the May-time,
Rich with the promise of June,
Deep in her heart, where the little leaves part,
Love, like a bird, sings in tune!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!