Harvest the seasons
and the grains of your labor
leave footprints in life.
haiku by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Harvest For The World
All babies together
Evry one a seed
Half of us are satisfied
The other half of us in need
Loves bountiful in us
Tarnished by our greed
Oh, when will there be a harvest.. for the world?
(harvest for the world)
A nations planted
So concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, we wont wait in vain
Far too many, feelin the strain
(chorus)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest for the world)
Dress me up for battle
When all I want is peace
Those of us who pay the price
Come home with the least
And nation after nation, tuning into beasts
(chorus)
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest..
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Footprints of My Mother
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall step to you.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall stay innocent and true.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall not give up hope.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall give you my love note.
In the footprints of my mother,
Lead me to a better path.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall releive in her wrath.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall cure all of your pains.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall bring you great reigns.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall unleash the angels of truth.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall defeat the evils booth.
The footprints of my mother,
led me straight to you.
The footprints of my mother,
Shown me I have nothing left to loose.
The footprints of my mother,
Guieded me towards the compelling lights.
The footprints of my mother,
Guided me towards the love of my life.
poem by Erin Grantham
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Footprints
FOOTPRINTS
In the journey of my life's ups and downs
You accompany me and guide me
With my burdened heart
I see your footprints left in the sand
The footprints you leave behind
Encourage me to go on
My prayers flow like tears
Watching your presence left in the sand
And your care imprinted in my heart
I know you have carried me
My footprints I cannot see
You want me to be happy, fulfilled and free
To complete the works you have begun on me.
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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Your Footprints
You left your footprints across my life
I hate to see your photographs:
passing history impossibly frozen,
demanding out-of-date thoughts.
You left your footprints on my life
I hate it when people talk of you:
as if they were asking for my blood
to warm their own false memories.
You left your footprints through my life
I hate it when I find a letter from you:
I read a richness and a loss in them
and am torn apart by myself
You left your footprints in my life
Footprints claim nothing, offer nothing;
they do not ask to be preserved, or to be erased;
they are clean, yet they are there;
where they lead, I have yet to find
You left your footprints across my life
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Myself a Sea-gull
I threw the net in the ocean of experience, on the bank of life.
The net is but my poetry;
I sat on the chill soft sand.
Contemplating i sat on the shore of life.
I cast the net, yonder i see the waves of the sea appearing like the waving green fields.
And the foam and surf of the sea
Resembling the grains at the top, in the fields of ocean's coast.
The sea-field has the eternal harvest ready with the surf grains.
To be reaped by the sea-gulls flying like the silver-sickles
I will also love the sea of life let me become a sea-gull
Wading and flying through- singing the song of the surging sea of life;
poem by Minnoor srinivasan
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Our Marriage Is Our Garden
Our marriage is our garden.
I want our garden to be beautiful.
With lush green grass,
With fragrant and colourful flowers.
A place of solace.
A place of peace.
A place of love.
Our garden must be watered.
Not watered too much.
As that would saturate the ground.
Not watered too little.
As that would leave the plants wilted.
And our grass barren.
But regularly.
So the flowers can stand tall
It must be weeded.
It must be maintained.
It must be loved.
We will plant seeds in our garden.
For new life makes any garden more beautiful and diverse.
We can harvest the fruit trees, but our harvest is limited
If we eat all the fruit too quick,
Then we must wait until the next harvest to eat again.
If we don't pick the fruit when it is right, it will spoil.
Our harvest is for our family.
If I eat all the fruit myself, then they will starve.
If we eat too much we will get sick.
If we eat what we are supposed to, then we will be healthy.
If we do not monitor the fruit,
Then someone might eat more than their share.
If we do not stand guard in our garden,
A thief might come into the garden to steal our fruit.
The fruit for our family.
For their garden must be barren and their crops have spoiled.
Our garden will stand the test of all seasons.
As all gardens do.
Another garden will also experience the same seasons.
Just at different times.
All gardens face rain.
All gardens get sun.
It is the rain that nourishes the garden and helps it's life to grow.
But our garden must be maintained regularly.
Only artificial things require no maintenance.
The artificial has no life.
It is fake, it is plastic.
Our garden needs to be real.
So life may grow and continue to grow.
So one day our children can enjoy a garden of their own.
For them and their children.
May their garden be overflowing with life and love.
And be the most beautiful garden in the world.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Our Mural
We all will leave our footprints
Upon our planets dirt
As we daily live our lives
Upon our home upon this earth,
From the places that we've been
Or from where we had came
From the happiness that we felt
And even the sadness and it's pain,
The people we have known
That became part of our life
And the laughs that we shared
With the tears that we cried,
As these are part of our footprints
That we placed upon this world
And every soul will leave them
As that will become our mural.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Harvest For The World
Gather everyman, gather everywoman
Celebrate your lives, give thanks for your children
When will there be a harvest for all the people
When will there be a harvest for all the world
Harvest For The World
All babies together, everyone a seed
Half of us are satisfied, half of us in need
Love's bountiful in us, tarnished by our greed
When will there be a harvest for the world
A nation planted, so concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, greater grows the pain
And far too many feelin' the strain
When will there be a harvest for the world
Gather everyman, gather everywoman
Celebrate your lives, give thanks for your children
Gather everyone, gather all together
Overlooking none, hopin' life gets better for the world
Dress me up for battle, when all I want is peace
Those of us who pay the price, come home with the least
Nation after nation, turning into beast
When will there be a harvest for the world
song performed by by Isley Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Footprints
Footprints in the sand
As deep as they might be
Will someday be washed away
By the wind or by the sea.
The footprints have been placed
Upon the beaches sand
In memory of a creature
Proclaiming Himself as Man.
I followed this set of footprints
Placed upon the beaches Earth
To find out where Man had gone to,
And to find out His Earthly worth.
Many of the footprints were deep,
Placed upon the beaches sand,
From the troubles that Man had kept
With memories held in His hand.
And the footprints, that were placed wide
They were many upon the beach,
Were they from the trouble that Man did hide,
Or was it from happiness, that was out of reach.
And then as I noticed in front of me
The footprints were swept away,
Man again was forgotten
Until He returned another day.
Then I looked behind me,
I saw my footprints in the sand
And I know someone will follow them
While wondering, who was this Man.
Had my footprints been placed deep,
Or were they placed apart very wide,
Will they wondered if I ever laughed,
Or if I cried, from sorrows I couldn't hide.
So I closed my eyes and I wondered
About the footprints that I had placed
Someday, will Man He follow them,
While believing my life a waste.
So I continued my walk upon the beach,
I was a very joyful and happy Man,
I left my sorrow and trouble behind me,
In my footprints in the sand.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Voices Of The Night : A Psalm Of Life
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream! -
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, - act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Footprints in the sand
One night I dreamed I was walking
Along the beach with the Lord,
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints.
Other times there was only one.
This bothered me because I noticed
During the low periods of my life when I was
Suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.
So I said to the Lord, “You promised me,
Lord, that if I followed you,
You would walk with me always.
But I noticed during the most trying periods
Of my life there has only been
One set of prints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most,
Have you not been there for me?
The Lord replied,
“The times when you have seen only one set of footprints
It was then that I carried you.”
poem by Katie Evans
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Fruits of Labor
The implementation and the planting of it,
Had been documented.
With an acknowledgement well known...
As to who had did this,
As a reaping of a harvest by all was sewn.
No one objected,
To the weeds seen and grown.
Since an anticipated fruits of labor...
Was expected to leave sweetened tastes,
To satisfy without a frown shown.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Psalm of Life
Tell me not in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou are, to dust thou returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, - act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sand of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solenm main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Maya
little brown birds with grey beaks and a patch of black
on their heads
three of them
drinking water on a pond of water created
by the little rain this morning
as i go near them
they all look at me and then in a sudden
they all fly away leaving some ripples in the
muddled pond
i never think of them as my enemies
they all leave at once
i do not have a gun
or a club or a slingshot
what i have in my hands are rice grains, nothing but rice grains
yes, rice grains for all of them
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Psalm Of Life
What the heart of the young man said to the psalmist
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!--
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,--act in the living present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Initials in your heart
People come and go
Like seasons and snow
Some people stay forever
These are the people we hold close
until the end of never
Some people go
Like they were never present at all
Where others carve their initials
into your heart, you will never be apart
Among those people there were
few from the start
They leave footprints in your memory
That will be remembered for eternity
poem by Will Reilly
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Hour Glass
As grains start to fall, everything is new.
Nothing is known about what to do.
As the pile of grains continues to grow,
It seems easier to know which way to go.
When grains approach a quarter of the way,
Things appear less black and white versus an earlier day.
But the world is exciting and there’s plenty of time.
Any thoughts of the hour glass give way to the sublime.
Pleasure, money, power and love battle for share,
While the grains at the top become increasingly rare.
At half way flowing grains take on a resounding force,
Though few pay attention as they race on their course.
Mental and physical factors band together as reminders,
But many still prefer to continue using their blinders.
As the grains accumulate to their three quarters state,
The niave and unprepared are in for a sad, brutal fate.
They still act as if they have power over the grains and the glass.
Nothing could be more wrong as the last few grains pass.
For matter not the importance or the manner of any man
When his last grain falls, the hour glass won’t turn over again.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The tendency of taxation is to create a class of persons who do not labor, to take from those who do labor the produce of that labor, and to give it to those who do not labor.
quote by William Cobbett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn Leaves
Autumn leaves knew the quivers of the heart
A gust of wind whirled in the blooms of seasons
Lifting from the ground
Summer yellow grains winter white brides
Spring sprinkled footprints resting on a doorstep
Spinning them round in a dizzy dance of sighs
Autumn leaves knew the quivers of the heart
The secret of an entrance into open shrines
Of ripe fruit burdens bursting in a treetop
Sweet juice bestowed on a thirsty lip
And of eager clouds carrying swelling drops
To wash the face of earth in newly born skies
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Love Sonnet 169 I Have Seen Sadness On The Prestine Sand
I have seen sadness on the pristine sand,
In faded footprints, you have failed to make,
More so that sands were once huge rocks, so grand,
Before this fate, that only sands could take:
To become the dunes, were dwelt my sorrow,
In dire stillness that aggravates my loss,
The craved tenderness, which you did not show,
That spawned a desert, much too wide to cross;
Though minute are the grains that slip my grasp,
Like truths that seep through a mind grief ridden,
Vicious as though rose harboring a wasp,
Thereby, in sweetness lurks its sting, hidden;
......Yet, your footprints did not last till evening,
......As blown sand covered your tracks of leaving.
.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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