God himself
He whom you can explicitly see is not God,
And he who was the strongest; without the most
minuscule form appearing even in flaming sunlight; was
not one of God’s infinite disciples; but God
himself....
He whom you can profoundly feel is not God,
And he who was entirely ungraspable; without even
leaving an untidy footprint after majestically
traversing on soil; was not one of God’s infinite
disciples; but God himself....
He whom you could magnificently create is not God,
And he who exists in an incomprehensibly fathomless
myriad of forms; was not one of God’s infinite
disciples; but God himself....
He whom you can profusely imagine is not God,
And he who remains perpetually obscure even after
floating in each particle of the exotic atmosphere;
was not one of God’s infinite disciples; but God
himself....
He whom you can vividly dream about is not God,
And he who propelled every brain to think beyond
corridors of the unbelievably extraordinary; was not
one of God’s infinite disciples; but God himself...
He whom you can coin your destiny with is not God,
And he who was maneuvering the lives of boundless at
the mere tip of his little finger; was not one of
God’s infinite disciples; but God himself.....
He whom you can cremate is not God,
And he who was immortally living; since unprecedented
centuries ago even before this earth was created; was
not one of God’s infinite disciples; but God
himself...
He whom you can admire is not God,
And he who was bestowing an everlasting labyrinth of
beauty every unfurling second; was not one of God’s
infinite disciples; but God himself...
He whom you can wholeheartedly cry for is not God,
And he who was incessantly replacing tears of all
mankind with omnipresent smiles; was not one of God’s
infinite disciples; but God himself......
He whom you can bid a celestial adieu is not God,
And he who was spawning countless for every entity
withering; was not one of God’s infinite disciples;
but God himself.....
He whom you can fabulously describe is not God,
And he was all Omniscient; having already embodied the
scriptures of holy tomorrow even before the world had
begun; was not one of God’s infinite disciples; but
God himself....
He whom you can devotedly chant till times beyond
eternity is not God,
And he who irrefutably steered every lip on this
globe; to propagate the essence of benevolent
existence; was not one of God’s infinite disciples;
but God himself....
He whom you can belligerently fight for is not God,
And he who evolved the most marvelously wonderful
species of creation called “Man”; was not one of God’s
infinite disciples; but God himself....
He whom you perpetually kept close to your chest was
not God,
And he who made every single heart throb for the
person it loved; was not one of God’s infinite
disciples; but God himself....
He whom you witnessed blossoming was not God,
And he who stood taller than the Sun; to illuminate
every miserably darkened cranny of trembling soil; was
not one of God’s infinite disciples; but God
himself.....
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
poem by Nikhil Parekh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The mother and the artist
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of wonderfully emollient freshness; every
unfurling instant of impregnably magnificent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of spellbindingly undefeated innocence; every
unfurling instant of symbiotically pristine existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of timelessly unconquerable truth; every unfurling
instant of bounteously magnanimous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unfathomably unfettered creativity; every
unfurling instant of timelessly burgeoning existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of royally triumphant resplendence; every
unfurling instant of unconquerably majestic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of eternally exhilarating vivaciousness; every
unfurling instant of redolently insuperable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbelievably ameliorating optimism; every
unfurling instant of marvelously benign existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of brilliantly liberated camaraderie; every
unfurling instant of iridescently inscrutable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unshakably virgin righteousness; every
unfurling instant of beautifully untainted existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of uninhibitedly heavenly frolic; every unfurling
instant of tantalizingly sensuous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of compassionately humanitarian friendship; every
unfurling instant of magically mitigating existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of miraculously everlasting freshness; every
unfurling instant of invincibly coalescing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of pricelessly ubiquitous oneness; every unfurling
instant of robustly blessed existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbreakably Omnipotent desire; every unfurling
instant of victoriously effulgent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unceasingly reinvigorating fantasy; every
unfurling minute of poignantly charismatic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of insurmountably intrepid enchantment; every
unfurling minute of rhapsodically unhindered existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Omnisciently tranquil serenity; every unfurling
instant of endlessly bestowing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of perpetually fragrant breath; every unfurling
instant of Omnipresently benevolent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Immortally ardent love; every unfurling instant
of limitlessly fructifying existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fantastically alleviating poetry; every
unfurling instant of boundlessly splendid existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fabulously effervescent tanginess; every
unfurling instant of spiritually uplifting existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unlimitedly enlightening Sunshine; every
unfurling instant of infallibly luminescent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of immaculately godly melody; every unfurling
instant of amiably melanging existence,
Because. And Only Because. A Mother is; has and shall for times immemorial
remain the Greatest Sculptor of every organism on this astoundingly
multiplying Universe; A Mother is the Greatest Artist….
poem by Nikhil Parekh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He who proclaims the existence of the Infinite, and none can avoid it — accumulates in that affirmation more of the supernatural than is to be found in all the miracles of all the religions; for the notion of the Infinite presents that double character that forces itself upon us and yet is incomprehensible. When this notion seizes upon our understanding we can but kneel ... I see everywhere the inevitable expression of the Infinite in the world; through it the supernatural is at the bottom of every heart. The idea of God is a form of the idea of the Infinite. As long as the mystery of the infinite weighs on human thought, temples will be erected for the worship of the Infinite, whether God is called Brahma, Allah, Jehovah, or Jesus; and on the pavement of these temples, men will be seen kneeling, prostrated, annihilated by the thought of the Infinite.
quote by Louis Pasteur
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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He was every person's Creator
For every bird gruesomely killed; he had the power to
create infinite more fledglings,
For every river dried miserably to a trickle; he had
the power to create infinite oceans,
For every tree brutally chopped to the ground; he had
the power to create infinite forests,
For every eye inadvertently blinded; he had the power
to create infinite with sight,
For every satanic night taking a complete stranglehold
on light; he had the power to create infinite
brilliant days,
For every tongue which was disdainfully dumb; he had
the power to create infinite mouths which could speak
and shout,
For every iota of currency furtively stolen; he had
the power to create infinite banks looming high and
handsome till the heavens,
For every couple who was childless and rendered
cruelly unable to procreate; he had the power to
create infinite more households bustling with a
battalion of toddlers,
For every brain that was wholesomely exhausted; he
had the power to create infinite intelligent minds,
For every child disastrously orphaned on the streets;
he had the power to create infinite families complete
in all respects,
For every blade of grass mercilessly trampled; he had
the power to create infinite meadows of lush green
crop,
For every skeleton lying disdainfully buried under the
coffin; he had the power to create infinite bodies;
dancing about in robust health and thunderous fervor,
For every scalp that was balder than the egg; he had
the power to create infinite strands of shimmering
hair,
For every life lost unwittingly during the tumultuous
earthquake; he had the power to create infinite more
souls as Kings,
For every slave bound wretchedly to gleaming chains;
he had the power to create infinite crusaders to break
open the shackles,
For every throat that was dangerously thirsty; he had
the power to create infinite mouths slavering with
excess water,
For every watch that had abruptly relinquished to
function; he had the power to create infinite clocks
ticking at electric speeds,
For every Albino engulfed entirely with a coat of
appalling pink skin; he had the power to create
infinite beauties with the most charismatic of flesh,
For every house that had been diabolically pulverized
to raw dust during war; he had the power to create
infinite palaces; blended profusely with glittering
gold and silver,
For every demon wandering at will on this earth; he
had the power to create infinite angels to valiantly
defend the world,
For every heart pathetically broken; he had the power
to create and bind infinite having just taken birth,
His power to create was simply unprecedented; his
process of evolution was simply boundless and beyond
the most unimaginable degree of comprehension; and
that is why he was not only mine; BUT EVERY PERSON'S
ALMIGHTY CREATOR
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
poem by Nikhil Parekh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Disciples Of Jesus Overcame Denouncement Fear Of Death
disciples of Jesus originally fear denounced Christ
in shock terror mortal fear for their threatened lives
followers fearing flogging crucifixion a criminal death
later disciples Holy Spirit lead witnessed their truth
were prepared to die and did for Christ their master
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Calming the Storm (Bible Poems for Children)
Jesus told his disciples, come with
me,
By boat, we'll sail across the sea.
He slept on a cushion, in the stern,
The salty water, made his eyes burn.
As he slept, a storm began,
Sweeping, could not see the land.
It threatened to swamp the boat.
Very hard to keep it afloat.
The wind was blowing it all around,
Capturing the boat with an awful
sound.
The disciples afraid, the boat would
sink,
Screamed Save us, save us, do you
think.
Jesus stood up, and softly spoke,
The storm obeyed, The storm was
broke.
The disciples marveled, who was he,
That could control, the wind and sea.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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True, He is infinite Majesty, but He is also infinite Goodness and infinite Love. There can be no greater Lord than God; neither can there be a more ardent lover than He.
quote by Alphonsus Liguori
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry Today
POETRY TODAY
Billions and trillions and zillions of words
Infinite infinite infinite unending ongoing unending infinite
Words and words and words.
And one small reader
Alone in the night
With a half- asleep mind
And a longing
For a bit of beauty,
And inspiration.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Goddess Revival
I wake up in the garden
A wind across my hair
The bloom of jasmine and the
Night sky satin
Softly she is there
The trail of light she leaves
Like sand in an hourglass
I listen to her voice at last
I am your past
Goddess revival
Ill be your path
One of her disciples
Please take my task
Goddess revival...
It was dark and so quiet
Venus led psyche to the rosey dawn
Shes only beginning to fight like shes winning
Through seasons, years, and eras, she carries on
I walk the way she walks
Leaving trails of golden light
I listen to her voice tonight
I am your past
Goddess revival
Ill be your friend
One of her disciples
Please take my hand
Godess revival...
Now I can see the light
Youve got to learn from me
Youve got a lot to learn
Goddess...
I am your past
Goddess revival
Ill be your friend
One of her disciples
Please take my hand
Goddess revival...
I am goddess revival
One of her disciples
Take me to the land
Ill show you what I am
song performed by by Wilsons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Touch Me Not?
don't touch
soul that star throbs stalker
past hearings' ear
don't touch
star dust plasma burns
spirit must bear
don't touch
light speed space stretches
probe infinite spear
don't touch
evolving dust constellations
thought born clear
although the doors
were locked, Jesus stood in their midst
and said, “May You have peace! ”
then he said to Thomas,
“Put your fingers
here, and see my hands,
and take your hand
and stick it into my side!
Stop being unbelieving
but become believing.... John 20: 26-29
some unbelieving Jews
came from Antioch and Iconium
they persuaded won over the crowds
and they stoned Paul
and dragged him outside the city,
imaging he was dead
(for he was stoned unto death?)
but as the disciples
gathered around him he rose up
and entered back into the city
and on the next day
he left with Barbabas for Derbe
(for Christ defeated death for us) Acts 14: 19-20
after proclaiming
the Good News in that city
and making many into disciples...
strengthening the souls of disciples
encouraging them to remain true to the faith
reminding them it is through many hardships
we must enter into the Kingdom of God
appointing elders for them in every congregation
Paul and Barbabas offering prayer with fasting
committed them to the Lord
in whom they had become believers Acts 14: 21-23
(in whom they entrusted their immortal souls)
In whom will you
entrust your immortal soul
even unto death?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Disciples Of Silence
the disciples of silence,
speak not with their mouths...
for their hands speak the language
of the heart,
and their feet that of the soul.
whose prayers are written by ears,
whose breath is always shared.
whose eyes are open windows,
whose god smells of human need.
whose actions be but forgiveness,
whose thoughts are not restrained.
the disciples of silence keep walking...
living in constant dialogue,
they have no need for words!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In This World Of Infinite Words
IN THIS WORLD OF INFINITE WORDS
In this world of infinite words
So many poems have already been written,
Infinite poems in infinite words-
Therefore any new poem simply seems to cry out its own non- necessity-
Yet in a word in a voice
A whole world can be born and transformed-
A new poem a real poem
Can make us forget all the others
And make all the others live through it-
Yet who in this world of infinite words
Can write this poem?
And when will the next set of strangers names come
To show me that my words are nothing?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You can kiss me; only If
You can kiss me on my voluptuously rubicund cheeks
all right; but only if your kiss had the power to
wonderfully transcend over every other conceivable
kiss drifting ominously towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my seductively tantalizing nape all
right; but only if your kiss had the tenacity to
miraculously overpower every other conceivable kiss
drifting atrociously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my rhapsodically vivacious hair all
right; but only if your kiss had the temerity to
supremely outshadow every other conceivable kiss
drifting egregiously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my enthrallingly ebullient lips all
right; but only if your kiss had the charisma to
irrefutably nullify every other conceivable kiss
drifting vindictively towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my bountifully emollient palms all
right; but only if your kiss had the superiority to
timelessly conquer every other conceivable kiss
drifting baselessly towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my surreally royal forehead all
right; but only if your kiss had the magic to
unbelievably decimate every other conceivable kiss
drifting truculently towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my daintily embellished feet all
right; but only if your kiss had the magnetism to
insuperably supercede every other conceivable kiss
drifting salaciously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my robustly titillating belly all
right; but only if your kiss had the caress to
astronomically triumph over every other conceivable
kiss drifting parasitically towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my uncontrollably trembling skin
all right; but only if your kiss had the color to
wholesomely camouflage every other conceivable kiss
drifting beguilingly towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my enigmatically arcane palms all
right; but only if your kiss had the fortitude to
entirely sideline every other conceivable kiss
drifting hedonistically towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my mellifluously dangling earlobes
all right; but only if your kiss had the ardor to
poignantly overrule every other conceivable kiss
drifting flagrantly towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my unfathomably scented fingers all
right; but only if your kiss had the righteousness to
unsurpassably defeat every other conceivable kiss
drifting hideously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my mischievously cavorting shadow
all right; but only if your kiss had the intensity to
unnervingly destroy every other conceivable kiss
drifting raunchily towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my aristocratically iridescent
shoulders all right; but only if your kiss had the
compassion to circumscribe every other conceivable
kiss drifting bizarrely towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my sensuously inebriating eyes all
right; but only if your kiss had the brilliance to
unprecedentedly blaze over every other conceivable
kiss drifting acrimoniously towards my direction; for
times beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my artistically sculptured chin all
right; but only if your kiss had the guts to
indomitably rule over every other conceivable kiss
drifting heinously towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
You can kiss me on my inimitably graceful spine all
right; but only if your kiss had the heavenliness to
eternally outclass every other conceivable kiss
drifting malevolently towards my direction; for times
beyond an infinite more lifetimes,
And you can kiss me on my immortally throbbing heart
all right; but only if your kiss had the kinsmanship
to forever subjugate and subdue every other
conceivable kiss drifting venomously towards my
direction; for times beyond an infinite more
lifetimes…
poem by Nikhil Parekh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Infinite Love
When you see a shooting star in the night
When you hear the warm wind whisper through the pines
I want you to know
Chorus:
Itll be me and my infinite love for you
Its just like I promised you under heaven above
It will live on long after we kiss goodbye
Forever by your side
My infinite love
When you think someone is callin out your name
When you feel that kind of feelin you cant explain
Now you will know
Repeat Chorus
I want you to know
Repeat Chorus
My infinite love
My infinite love
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They Didn’t Get It
They simply didn’t get it, they just did not understand,
Words that were spoken, to them by The Son of Man,
Spoken by The Holy Spirit, of The Eternal Living God,
To enlighten every journey, on the pilgrim path we trod.
Men chosen by The Savior, The Lord we know today,
To follow in His footsteps, in a new and powerful way.
Were given inside information, of His plan from above,
God’s plan for our Salvation, on Christ’s cross of love.
As the Disciples heard, their spiritual eyes couldn’t see,
That His plan wasn’t temporal, but it was for all eternity.
Do some of the people today, follow the very same suit,
When hearing God’s Word, they do not grasp the Truth?
Many men today have read, and listened to God’s Word,
But just like the Disciples, they don’t get what they heard.
Their own desires and hearts, sometimes got in the way,
And the same may be the case, for many believers today.
But after Christ’s ascension, those Disciples had received,
Power from The Holy Spirit, to realize all that they believed.
Today the same Holy Spirit, The Lord God above bestows,
Upon every new Believer, whom The Lord God truly knows.
Infinetry
If the universe is of infinite size
On just one planet would life arise?
Or are there many where life can swarm,
Advanced like us and of similar form?
In lands bizarre and on planets strange,
Do alien writers their words arrange?
So do we live in a universe
Where infinite poets write infinite verse?
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lines consist of an infinite number of points; planes an infinite number of lines; volumes an infinite number of planes, hypervolumes an infinite number of volumes... No, this, this more geometrico, is definitely not the best way to begin my tale. Affirming a fantastic tale's truth is now a story-telling convention; mine, though, is true.
Jorge Luis Borges in The Book of Sand (1975)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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I know this world is ruled by infinite intelligence. Everything that surrounds us- everything that exists - proves that there are infinite laws behind it. There can be no denying this fact. It is mathematical in its precision.
quote by Thomas A. Edison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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See Me Tonight,
time,
time has taken another turn,
time make's a man, time save's a man,
time is so infinite time can never fade,
time move's on and on with the infinite timing,
My time here is to shine by the light,
the anguish and affliction's has to end because
we trust our heavenly father,
By the value of God
we value time that giveth us the infinite life.
poem by Maxim Muyu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Power Of The Cross
It was a special time indeed, when Christ chose to died upon a tree,
For He didn't die because of a crime, but He died for you and me.
On the morning before He died, as the garden was quiet and still,
He chose to do a work of Love and follow His Father's will.
He told the Disciples to wait and watch as he went away to pray,
But when He returned, He found them all asleep, much to His dismay.
He then went back to pray to The Father, not once but two more times,
Although He wanted the cup to pass he said Father your will not mine.
Filled with anguish He continued to pray to The One in whom He loved,
In so much pain as He prayed, His sweat fell to the ground like blood.
When He returned to the disciples, it was no surprise to The Lord,
As they saw Judas leading a crowd, with each man lifting a sword.
He was arrested that day, for you and I, and lead off to face a trial
While the Apostle who said that he never would, went into denial.
In their grief instead of holding fast to the Only One that mattered,
As The Scriptures clearly stated, the rest of the disciples scattered.
After they regathered, but filled with grief, much to their surprise,
As it was clearly taught by the prophets, The Lord truly did arise.
And as they understood that day, Christ's Resurrection set them free,
Today that same power is available to you, if you only would believe.
(Copyright © 03/2002)
When He Himself Reveals Himself
When he himself reveals himself,
Brahma brings into manifestation
That which can never be seen.
As the seed is in the plant,
as the shade is in the tree,
as the void is in the sky,
as infinite forms are in the void-
So from beyond the Infinite,
the Infinite comes;
and from the Infinite the finite extends.
The creature is in Brahma,
and Brahma is in the creature:
they are ever distinct,
yet ever united.
He Himself is the tree, the seed, and the germ.
He Himself is the flower, the fruit, and the shade.
He Himself is the sun, the light, and the lighted.
He Himself is Brahma, creature, and Maya.
He Himself is the manifold form, the infinite space;
He is the breath, the word, and the meaning.
He Himself is the limit and the limitless:
and beyond both the limited and the limitless is He,
the Pure Being.
He is the Immanent Mind in Brahma and in the creature.
The Supreme Soul is seen within the soul,
The Point is seen within the Supreme Soul,
And within the Point, the reflection is seen again.
Kabîr is blest because he has this supreme vision!