Love's Four Riddles
As the moon bleaches the night,
eyes tread the stark field that has
few remnant weeds, no seeds.
Clasping dry twigs, hands
are cold, gone is the gold.
The clouds and wind despair
to shake the earthly mystique.
Angels’ ballad with the stars
gives the night its sun
as heat seizes the land.
Pebble's core melts and joins
God's nature's greats.
Forest hymns move hills
of meek unsuspecting heaven,
the steaming river rushes in.
A renewed life captures lives,
feathers flap and beaks open.
The earth welcomes the captives.
Prancing grass
exalts joyful existence!
poem by Ena N. Mori
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Related quotes
Tease
shall i fly with you on a first class suite
to the blue skies
the soft cottony clouds our mattresses
the moon our bed
the stars our glittering lights and the wind
of the night
our air conditioning delights
how the grass shall envy us
how the earth shall look at us with suspense
as we make love till dusk and as tired as lovers are
we sleep like two white feathers left inside the nest
we like to think that way
but how can this ever be?
night and day, that is what we are, how can we ever be together?
earth and sky, floor and ceiling
two parallel lines running in opposite directions
we shall never ever meet
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Patience Taught By Nature
'O DREARY life,' we cry, ' O dreary life ! '
And still the generations of the birds
Sing through our sighing, and the flocks and herds
Serenely live while we are keeping strife
With Heaven's true purpose in us, as a knife
Against which we may struggle ! Ocean girds
Unslackened the dry land, savannah-swards
Unweary sweep, hills watch unworn, and rife
Meek leaves drop year]y from the forest-trees
To show, above, the unwasted stars that pass
In their old glory: O thou God of old,
Grant me some smaller grace than comes to these !--
But so much patience as a blade of grass
Grows by, contented through the heat and cold.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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The Seeds of the Day.
The Moon...?
The loving eye of the Night!
The Sun...?
The majestic march of the Space.!
The Clouds..?
The dream clusters of the Skies!
The Winds..?
The friendly hands of the Nature!
The Water..?
The blood of the Greenery!
The Trees.?
The Earth's signature of victory!
The Birds..?
The Mind's chariot of flowers!
The Sky..?
The mighty shrinkers of the Macrocosms!
The Stars..?
The seeds of the Day sown
In the fields of the Night!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Gold In Them Hills
I know it doesn't seem that way
But maybe it's the perfect day
Even though the bills are piling
And maybe Lady Luck ain't smiling
But if we'd only open our eyes
We'd see the blessings in disguise
That all the rain clouds are fountains
Though our troubles seem like mountains
There's gold in them hills
There's gold in them hills
So don't lose heart
Give the day a chance to start
Every now and then life says
Where do you think you're going so fast
We're apt to think it cruel but sometimes
It's a case of cruel to be kind
And if we'd get up off our knees
Why then we'd see the forest for the trees
And we'd see the new sun rising
Over the hills on the horizon
There's gold in them hills
There's gold in them hills
So don't lose faith
Give the world a chance to say...
A word or two, my friend
There's no telling how the day might end
And we'll never know until we see
That there's gold in them hills
There's gold in them hills
So don't lose heart
Give the day a chance to start
There's gold in them hills...
There's gold in them hills...
song performed by by Coldplay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pele's Song
Pele's soul made of fire
Flowing lava ever higher.
To the shores of desire.
Fire meets the water
on the shore of life.
The Sea becomes the husband
of this Earthly wife.
With this union
Comes new birth
Of new islands
On this Earth.
For mankind an earthly dwelling
From Her inner core is swelling.
Into life and land above.
Goddess of creation
A cosmic kissed sensation.
Of terra firma Mother Love.
Land and trees fast appearing
From this sacred unseen force.
Upon the seas of life we're sailing,
Soon returning to our Source.
Seeing through the earthly mists
To the many worlds beyond.
Our souls fly like lighting bolts
With astral spheres we are blending
Upon creations scale we are ascending.
Reveling in this new existence.
We cast away all earthly resistance.
When we reach that distant shore
In that realm where our souls belong.
Seeking that which we adore.
We listen for the angels song.
Then in the distance we shall hear
Pele's voice so sweet and clear
Mingling with the joyful angels
as She sweetly sings along.
poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden
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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
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The Hidden Possibility....
imagine
one tranquil day
when you can hear
ants moving
under your feet
you lay your body
on the grass
under the old tree
with many leaves
that look like
small fingers
of a baby
you have emptied
yourself of thoughts
you become one
big empty
basket
you are an open
cave
inviting restless vagabonds
to take
rest
one dark & cold night
at least for a certain
while
the days come
and go
and you feel like a river
passing by
leaves blown by the strong wind
far north
on some normal days
a hundred butterflies flutter
and hover
homing to you
migrant birds perch
upon your hair
imagine that
you are no longer you
but a wide door without a lock
an open window that welcomes the moon
an earth
sky
and infinite space
a universe in itself
stripped of
identity and
greed
now sleep, and inside this
chamber
close your eyes some more
time
you have become
a poem vested
in eternity
some call you an angel
someone will dare
calling you one of the gods
beside the gods
in the temple of heaven
what is important is that
you are at peace, happy,
engrossed in grace
so much blessing
pouring unto your heart
do not think about you
you can no longer do that
there is no you now
do not think of contempt
you have become more than what you are
you have flown above the earth
you have crossed the river of ire
and disbelief
this is
the hidden possibility
the truth that we now see.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee
Joyful, joyful, we adore thee
God of glory, lord of love
Hearts unfold like flowers before thee
Opening to the sun above
Melt the clouds of sin and sadness
Drive the dark of doubt away
Giver of immortal gladness
Fill us with the light of day
All thy work with joy surround thee
Earth and heaven reflect thy rays
Stars and angels sing around thee
Center of unbroken praise
Field and forest, vale and mountain
Chanting bird and flowing fountain
Call us to rejoice in thee
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah,rejoice
Mortals, join the mighty chorus
Which the morning stars began
Father love is reignning oer us
Brother love binds man to man
Ever singing, march we onward
Victors in the midst we strife
Joyful music leads us sunward
In the triumph song of life
In the triumph song of life
song performed by by Lauryn Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Moth Life
What is this moth life?
To sleep all day
to hide from the light
the heat the warmth of the sun...
To awake with night
the night sounds night senses
to see by light of moon tread stellar stars...
To fly with dark air
still air night breezes winds
like dark matter currents of the universe...
To fly with celestial navigation
upon moon beams, or flickering stars these pulsing points,
guide your path, as you dance with radio waves, unseen in human unaided perception...
God created you in dull form
to mask your presence in daylight hiding,
do you see ultra violet, by night shapes humans are unaware of?
Do your eyes senses
detect dimensions of life humanity,
has never beheld, do stars whisper night secrets to you?
What secrets of nature
did God gift bestow upon you,
ultra sound radar, like bats to see with exceptional perception?
Do you perceive human civilization
do you care in your existence realities soaring,
naked bulbs glow like suns, draw you in like moth, to flame embracing?
So you burn fall in a moment
singed falling like meteor demons cast down,
out of heaven, but your innocent dust soul is freed by light?
Sometimes I too align to stars
twinkle atmospheric messages kindle my soul,
glimpse the unseen, contemplate alien consciousness, abundant unseen!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Change
She leaned out into the soft June weather,
With her long loose tresses the night breeze played;
Her eyes were as blue as the bells on the heather:
Oh, what is so fair as a fair young maid!
She folded her hands, like the leaves of a lily,
'My life, ' she said, 'is a night in June,
Fair and quiet, and calm and stilly;
Bring me a change, O changeful moon!
'Who would drift on a lake forever?
Young hearts weary - it is not strange,
And sigh for the beautiful bounding river;
New moon, true moon, bring me a change! '
The rose that rivalled her maiden blushes
Dropped from her breast, at a strangers feet;
Only a glance; but the hot blood rushes
To mantle a fair face, shy and sweet.
To and fro, while the moon is waning,
They walk, and the stars shine on above;
And one is in earnest, and one is feigning -
Oh, what is so sweet as a sweet young love?
A young life crushed, and a young heart broken,
A bleak wind blows through the lovely bower,
And all that remains of the love vows spoken -
Is the trampled leaf of a faded flower.
The night is dark, for the moon is failing -
And what is so pale as a pale old moon?
Cold is the wind through the tree tops wailing -
Woe that the change should come so soon.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Floral Petal Dress
The cold morning wind clinically
Undresses the flower’s petal dress,
Still standing tall the birth of seeds begins
Their random atmospheric journey,
Pollination primed by the winged midwife,
Rising higher o’er hills and vale for a new life
Twisting and waving to friends flying by.
The sun shows his early warm face as
He’s calming the wind to a gentle lull,
A sign for all the seeds to spiral down
To their resting place where nature has sewn,
Some land right onto a sheep’s ear
A quick shake and their off no fear,
Then more fall on a cow’s tail
With a moo and a flick no problems avail,
They all land safely and will sleep until spring,
Then will wake and grow when the birdies do sing.
poem by Ken e Hall
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Sonnet: The Full Moon Will Be Back Again!
A one-third moon is seen in clouded sky!
With yellow light within a misty veil;
The havoc-play of rain-clouds though not high!
But in a trice, the moon’s light will prevail.
And every day, the moon is getting small;
Some gazer’s eyes are sad and almost cry;
But soon the full-moon appears like a ball!
Its splendid light illuminates night sky!
In life on earth, both joys and grief befall;
This mixture makes our earthly stay wholesome;
The vagaries of Nature affect all;
We ought to take things as and when they come.
All things in Nature will change as per law;
Yet, God’s creation is without a flaw!
poem by John Celes
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Summer Song
THERE are white moon daisies in the mist of the meadow
Where the flowered grass scatters its seeds like spray,
There are purple orchis by the wood-ways' shadow,
There are pale dog-roses by the white highway;
And the grass, the grass is tall, the grass is up for hay,
With daisies white like silver and buttercups like gold,
And it's oh! for once to play thro' the long, the lovely day,
To laugh before the year grows old!
There is silver moonlight on the breast of the river
Where the willows tremble to the kiss of night,
Where the nine tall aspens in the meadow shiver,
Shiver in the night wind that turns them white.
And the lamps, the lamps are lit, the lamps are glow-worms light,
Between the silver aspens and the west's last gold.
And it's oh! to drink delight in the lovely lonely night,
To be young before the heart grows old!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A Night Romance!
Night is the time for enjoyment in life forever;
Night without end is what all dream about long!
Will that dream materialize only after death...?
Romantic atmosphere created by stars and moon
Kindles passionate love affair to enact on the stage
Act after act art of romantic love game to go on...!
Audience is teased to the core such a love drama
To go on sans end in the long course of night.....;
But night has not that decree to do so by nature!
Paradise of earth is a time bound programme....
And heaven is the limitless pleasure dome all
Dream about to reach one day in all life here....!
Night time is the bird in hand worth two in bush
No one can wish to waste in life in romance & love!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Bitter Night
When I sit here on this cold ground with this sky full of empty trees creaking with the bright moon lighting down on my part of the world with all the stars out to greet the river that's flowing though, my hands slowing down from the chilled night. oh what a night to enjoy a night to remember a night to cherish a night to look forward to, to sit and look out at a calm and peaceful powerful bitter night
poem by Ryan Adamec
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The magic forest
At the Bois de Boulogne lies magic
Magic that cannot be evitable
Magic that lures people into the evergreen forest
In the forest, soft earth is like a comfy bed
Meadows of grass are green sheets for the bed
If you happen to lie down on the bed
The sunlight hugs your body gently like a mother
Your eyes are heavy weights, unable to keep your eyes open
You fall into the sweetest dream as time goes by…
Night walked into the forest as day walked out of the forest
The pale moon is like a glass eye of a witch staring at you
The dark magic falls into the forest
Lusty monsters fill the magic forest
And the magic forest falls asleep…
The dancing whirling leaves
I will befall into my tomb
As a waning river falls to the sea
I embrace death the existence of ‘not to be’
As a child welcomes his calm night dream
I walked in the shadows of darkness and sorrow
Unfriendly and cold and alone
As dismally gurgle besides me
The bleak river desolate moan
The rise of the volleying thunder
The mountain’s lone echoes repeat
The roar whirl wind around me
The galling autumn leaves at my feet
I stooped in shadows of darkness and sorrow
Uncheered by the moon’s spangled ray
Not a friend that I love but is dead
Not a hope I have but have faded away
Oh Shall I rest in the tomb
Wrapped about with the chill winding white sheet
For the roar of the wind is around me
And the waving yellow leaves above my head
I heed not the blasts that sweep over me
I mind not the hail the storm and the raging sea
I blame not the tempest of night
They are not the foes who have banished
The visions of youthful delight
I hail the wild sound of their raving
Their merciless presence I greet
Oh let it be! Let me join these eternal elements
And roam the land and rove the vexed sea
Yet my fate is the roar of the wind engulfing me
And the piling reddened leaves at my feet
In this waste of existence and solitude, for solace
On whom shall my lone spiral call?
Shall I seek shall I fly to the friends of my bosom
My God I have buried them all
They are dead they are gone they are cold
My embrace no longer they meet or feel
Fall to the roar of the wind around me
The yellow leaves hissing in a macabre music at my feet
Those eyes that glanced love into mine
With motionless and cold slumber are pressed
Those hearts which once throbbed are no more in line
They are chill as the earth where they rest
Then around me my wan withered form
Let the pestilent gale beat
Submit to the howling wind around me
While the mocking leaves dance at my feet
Like the voice of the owl in the hall
Where the song of choir and the banquet ceased
Where the green weeds have mantled the hearth
Where raise the proud flame of feast
So I cry to the storm whose dark wings
Scatter on my eyes the wild driving sleet
Let the roar of the wind around me
And the dancing whirling clan leaves at my feet
copy rights 2010
One Saturday Morning At The Mountain Top Inside The House
it is raining outside
it is the habitualness of the image that flows inside us
green grass and rolling hills and clouds a drifting
the sound of rain like footsteps of children playing under the shower from heaven
i sit upon a chair looking outside
i am not thinking about anything simply watching the rain
the green grass
the trees the sea and the horizon that extends more than what my eyes can see
more than what i can contain
this empty bowl with a wide mouth open
this hollowness that cannot speak because it does not have the exact words
to say
it seems to me that the correct existence that fills this void is nothing
but the silence of the trees, the grass, the hills and the far away seas
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Moonful Of Moments
Moon light so bright
It follows you all night
Have no fear nor no worry
No need for any hurry
It’ll guide you in your darkest hour
Light galore with endless power
When your candle melts or your torch it fails
Your eyes – a boat on sea
And the moon – wind in its sails
Or stay and watch its silent reign
The moon a ball and the night its chain
The blackness has no place to hide
Its whiteness wants to be your guide
Like many eyes its surrounded by
The stars are company dotted high
Full moon fears play on your mind
Stay one step ahead not behind
Magical moon playing tricks
The man who lives there gets his kicks
He’s smiling as your pace gets faster
Staying calm you have yet to master
Oh take advantage of its faithful glow
Enjoy it fully by going slow.
Moon light so bright
It follows you all night.
poem by Daniel Murphy
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This Is Like Heaven To Me
Heaven is where we walk the streets made of gold,
And secrets of our hearts will be told.
The further we go the heavenly sunset we behold
Thinking of heaven where angles are ordained of God
Around the throne eternity is bound,
Wound in celestial mantle our old prayers are found.
Where you will never age, and see sunrise in the dark,
Waiting for the star and the dewy morning light,
Appearing so bright the night is soon forgotten.
Heaven wakes the stations in the entire kingdom,
A new enchantment waiting to be discovered,
A secret world lies between heaven and earth.
Walking daytime if you are immortal full of life,
On earth life is hell; our lives are like empty shell.
We carry misery from early birth to the deep earth,
Belief keeps us looking for heaven in the clouds,
In hope of humane rapture that will give peace.
And take in the dim view; to a place that is new
Where teenagers can dress like linen lilies.
Hiding a sermon you cannot walk to church with,
The sign makes the heart free from the pain of fear.
And the sky above them are laden with smoke,
Dreams which could be paradise move uneasy,
The next day life is different when they awake.
This is like heaven to me with love and dreams,
I will wait patiently until my destiny come.
They see the blue skies above and watch the smoke
Move gently through the clouds away from the crowd,
Gathering storm brings the rain that will quickly fall,
One of Gods messenger touches the Glover grass.
And soon the dark shadows past into the night,
Be reborn in the harvest of heavenly paradise.
On the street where I live there is a ladder to climb
Tall hedges and scented foliage blind the golden sun,
That sweet savor with leaves fluttering in the wind,
Turned the pages as they move below the window pane,
They seemed too changed and turn a different color.
And the heart looses gain and falls apart with pain,
The realm of this world tries to take control,
Angels tells a different story running from heaven.
My mind does not exist among the clouds
When the rain falls, blessings feel like I am forgiven
African violet sometimes your eyes are wet,
But the showers needs to fall on barren hearts,
Places we have been and the things we regret.
poem by Gerry Legister
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