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Best Famous Spiritual Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Spiritual poems. This is a select list of the best famous Spiritual poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Spiritual poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of spiritual poems.

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Written by Galway Kinnell | |

Saint Francis And The Sow

The bud 
stands for all things, 
even for those things that don't flower, 
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing; 
though sometimes it is necessary 
to reteach a thing its loveliness, 
to put a hand on its brow 
of the flower 
and retell it in words and in touch 
it is lovely 
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing; 
as Saint Francis 
put his hand on the creased forehead 
of the sow, and told her in words and in touch 
blessings of earth on the sow, and the sow 
began remembering all down her thick length, 
from the earthen snout all the way 
through the fodder and slops to the spiritual curl of the tail, 
from the hard spininess spiked out from the spine 
down through the great broken heart 
to the blue milken dreaminess spurting and shuddering 
from the fourteen teats into the fourteen mouths sucking and blowing beneath 
them: 
the long, perfect loveliness of sow.


Written by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi | |

The Way Things Should

What will our children do in the morning?

Will they wake with their hearts wanting to play, the way wings should?

Will they have dreamed the needed flights and gathered the strength from the planets that all men and women need to balance the wonderful charms of the earth

so that her power and beauty does not make us forget our own?

I know all about the ways of the heart – how it wants to be alive.

Love so needs to love that it will endure almost anything, even abuse, just to flicker for a moment.
But the sky’s mouth is kind, its song will never hurt you, for I sing those words.

What will our children do in the morning if they do not see us fly?

 

From Love Poems from God, by Daniel Ladinsky.

Copyright © 2002 by Daniel Ladinsky.
Reprinted by permission of the author.


Written by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi | |

There Is A Candle In Your Heart

There is a candle in your heart,       ready to be kindled.
There is a void in your soul,       ready to be filled.
You feel it, don’t you? You feel the separation       from the Beloved.
Invite Him to fill you up,       embrace the fire.
Remind those who tell you otherwise that       Love       comes to you of its own accord,       and the yearning for it       cannot be learned in any school.

From: ‘Hush Don’t Say Anything to God: Passionate Poems of Rumi’ Translated by Sharam Shiva

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Written by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi | |

We Are As The Flute

We are as the flute, and the music in us is from thee; we are as the mountain and the echo in us is from thee.

We are as pieces of chess engaged in victory and defeat: our victory and defeat is from thee, O thou whose qualities are comely!

Who are we, O Thou soul of our souls, that we should remain in being beside thee?

We and our existences are really non-existence; thou art the absolute Being which manifests the perishable.

We all are lions, but lions on a banner: because of the wind they are rushing onward from moment to moment.

Their onward rush is visible, and the wind is unseen: may that which is unseen not fail from us!

Our wind whereby we are moved and our being are of thy gift; our whole existence is from thy bringing into being.

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Written by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi | |

Whoever Brought Me Here

All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that, and I intend to end up there.

This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place, I’ll be completely sober.
Meanwhile, I’m like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off, but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice? Who says words with my mouth?

Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.
Whoever brought me here, will have to take me home.

This poetry.
I never know what I’m going to say.
I don’t plan it.
When I’m outside the saying of it, I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

Trans.
Coleman Barks.

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Written by Calvin Ziegler | |

Am Grischtdaag / At Christmas

AM GRISCHTDAAG

Sis Grischtdaag.
Die ganz Welt iwwer Frei die Leit sich sehr, Un alles is harrlich, as wann der Daag Vom Himmel gelosse waer.
Ich hock allee in mei Zimmer Un denk so iwwer die Zeit - Wie der Geischt vun Grischt sich immer Weider un weider ausbreid: Un wie heit in yeder Famillye Frehlich un gutes Mut In die liewi aldi Heemet Sich widder versammle dutt.
Ach widder deheem! Ach, Yammer! - Net all! Deel sin yo heit Zu weit vun uns ab zu kumme - Fatt in de Ewichkeit.
Net all deheem! Verleicht awwer - Unich behaap's kann sei - Im Geischt sin mir all beisamme Un griesse enanner uff's nei! So sin mir vereenicht widder - Loss die Zeit vergeb wiesie will; Ich drink eich ein Gruss, ihr Brieder! Verwas sitzt dir all so schtill? Weit ab - iwwer Barig un Valley, Un iwwer die Ewichkeit's Brick - Vun eich Brieder all, wie Geischdeschall Kummt mir Eier Gruss zerick.
AT CHRISTMAS It's Christmas.
The whole world over Everyone's filled with love, And everything's joyful, as if the day Was given from above.
I sit alone in my room Thinking about the times - How the spirit of Christ always Wider and wider shines.
And how today all families With much happiness embrace As they gather once again In the dear old home place.
All home again! Oh, not so! - Not all! Some today in reality Are far from us below - Away in eternity! Not all at home! Perhaps though - And I insist I knew - In the spirit we're all together And greet each other anew.
So we are together again - May the time go as it will, I drink to you a toast, brothers! Why do you all sit so still? Far away - over valley and ridge, And over the eternal bridge - From you brothers, like a spiritual echo Your greeting returns below.


Written by The Bible | |

Colossians 3:16-17

May the word of Jesus Christ
Make its home in your hearts
And dwell in all its richness,
Permeating every part
So you may have His wisdom
In teaching one another
What you have learned from Him
Shared with sisters and brothers
And we will sing a new song
When His Holy Spirit comes in,
Making melody in our hearts
With spiritual songs and hymns
And whatever you may do
In word, thought or deed,
Do everything in the name of Jesus
Giving praise unto thee.

Scripture Poem © Copyright Of M.
S.
Lowndes


Written by Ehsan Sehgal | |

I Love You

I always dreamed
It seemed
An invisible angelic soul
That came as spiritual lights
In my sad, tearful and darknights
Where I was prisoner
By an unwanted lover
Living in the fears
I prayed years and years
With my heart and tears
May God had listened me
And one day I discovered you
My heart deeply favoured you
I now see and feel
You, as my love and soul
My life and final goal
May you give me a place in your glorious heart
To become your part and effection art.
Ehsan Sehgal


Written by Anonymous | |

SPIRITUAL BLESSINGS.

Almighty Father! Thou hast many blessings
In store for every loving child of Thine;
For this I pray,—Let me, Thy grace possessing,
Seek to be guided by Thy will divine.
Not for earth’s treasures,—for her joys the dearest,—
Would I my supplications raise to Thee;
Not for the hopes that to my heart are nearest,
But only that I give that heart to Thee.
I pray that Thou wouldst guide and guard me ever;
Cleanse, by Thy power, from every stain of sin;
I will Thy blessing ask on each endeavor,
And thus Thy promised peace my soul shall win.


Written by Friedrich von Schiller | |

Friendship

 Friend!--the Great Ruler, easily content,
Needs not the laws it has laborious been
The task of small professors to invent;
A single wheel impels the whole machine
Matter and spirit;--yea, that simple law,
Pervading nature, which our Newton saw.
This taught the spheres, slaves to one golden rein, Their radiant labyrinths to weave around Creation's mighty hearts: this made the chain, Which into interwoven systems bound All spirits streaming to the spiritual sun As brooks that ever into ocean run! Did not the same strong mainspring urge and guide Our hearts to meet in love's eternal bond? Linked to thine arm, O Raphael, by thy side Might I aspire to reach to souls beyond Our earth, and bid the bright ambition go To that perfection which the angels know! Happy, O happy--I have found thee--I Have out of millions found thee, and embraced; Thou, out of millions, mine!--Let earth and sky Return to darkness, and the antique waste-- To chaos shocked, let warring atoms be, Still shall each heart unto the other flee! Do I not find within thy radiant eyes Fairer reflections of all joys most fair? In thee I marvel at myself--the dyes Of lovely earth seem lovelier painted there, And in the bright looks of the friend is given A heavenlier mirror even of the heaven! Sadness casts off its load, and gayly goes From the intolerant storm to rest awhile, In love's true heart, sure haven of repose; Does not pain's veriest transports learn to smile From that bright eloquence affection gave To friendly looks?--there, finds not pain a grave? In all creation did I stand alone, Still to the rocks my dreams a soul should find, Mine arms should wreathe themselves around the stone, My griefs should feel a listener in the wind; My joy--its echo in the caves should be! Fool, if ye will--Fool, for sweet sympathy! We are dead groups of matter when we hate; But when we love we are as gods!--Unto The gentle fetters yearning, through each state And shade of being multiform, and through All countless spirits (save of all the sire)-- Moves, breathes, and blends, the one divine desire.
Lo! arm in arm, through every upward grade, From the rude mongrel to the starry Greek, Who the fine link between the mortal made, And heaven's last seraph--everywhere we seek Union and bond--till in one sea sublime Of love be merged all measure and all time! Friendless ruled God His solitary sky; He felt the want, and therefore souls were made, The blessed mirrors of his bliss!--His eye No equal in His loftiest works surveyed; And from the source whence souls are quickened, He Called His companion forth--ETERNITY!


Written by David Herbert Lawrence | |

A Spiritual Woman

 Close your eyes, my love, let me make you blind; 
 They have taught you to see 
Only a mean arithmetic on the face of things, 
A cunning algebra in the faces of men, 
 And God like geometry 
Completing his circles, and working cleverly.
I'll kiss you over the eyes till I kiss you blind; If I can—if any one could.
Then perhaps in the dark you'll have got what you want to find.
You've discovered so many bits, with your clever eyes, And I'm a kaleidoscope That you shake and shake, and yet it won't come to your mind.
Now stop carping at me.
—But God, how I hate you! Do you fear I shall swindle you? Do you think if you take me as I am, that that will abate you Somehow?—so sad, so intrinsic, so spiritual, yet so cautious, you Must have me all in your will and your consciousness— I hate you.


Written by Philip Larkin | |

Toads

 Why should I let the toad work
 Squat on my life?
Can't I use my wit as a pitchfork
 And drive the brute off?

Six days of the week it soils 
 With its sickening poison -
Just for paying a few bills!
 That's out of proportion.
Lots of folk live on their wits: Lecturers, lispers, Losels, loblolly-men, louts- They don't end as paupers; Lots of folk live up lanes With fires in a bucket, Eat windfalls and tinned sardines- they seem to like it.
Their nippers have got bare feet, Their unspeakable wives Are skinny as whippets - and yet No one actually starves.
Ah, were I courageous enough To shout Stuff your pension! But I know, all too well, that's the stuff That dreams are made on: For something sufficiently toad-like Squats in me, too; Its hunkers are heavy as hard luck, And cold as snow, And will never allow me to blarney My way of getting The fame and the girl and the money All at one sitting.
I don't say, one bodies the other One's spiritual truth; But I do say it's hard to lose either, When you have both.


Written by George Meredith | |

Modern Love XXIX: Am I Failing

 Am I failing ? For no longer can I cast 
A glory round about this head of gold.
Glory she wears, but springing from the mould; Not like the consecration of the Past! Is my soul beggared? Something more than earth I cry for still: I cannot be at peace In having Love upon a' mortal lease.
I cannot take the woman at her worth! Where is the ancient wealth wherewith I clothed Our human nakedness, and could endow With spiritual splendour a white brow That else had grinned at me the fact I loathed ? A kiss is but a kiss now! and no wave Of a great flood that whirls me to the sea.
But, as you will! we'll sit contentedly, And eat our pot of honey on the grave.


Written by Edwin Muir | |

Scotland 1941

 We were a tribe, a family, a people.
Wallace and Bruce guard now a painted field, And all may read the folio of our fable, Peruse the sword, the sceptre and the shield.
A simple sky roofed in that rustic day, The busy corn-fields and the haunted holms, The green road winding up the ferny brae.
But Knox and Melville clapped their preaching palms And bundled all the harvesters away, Hoodicrow Peden in the blighted corn Hacked with his rusty beak the starving haulms.
Out of that desolation we were born.
Courage beyond the point and obdurate pride Made us a nation, robbed us of a nation.
Defiance absolute and myriad-eyed That could not pluck the palm plucked our damnation.
We with such courage and the bitter wit To fell the ancient oak of loyalty, And strip the peopled hill and altar bare, And crush the poet with an iron text, How could we read our souls and learn to be? Here a dull drove of faces harsh and vexed, We watch our cities burning in their pit, To salve our souls grinding dull lucre out, We, fanatics of the frustrate and the half, Who once set Purgatory Hill in doubt.
Now smoke and dearth and money everywhere, Mean heirlooms of each fainter generation, And mummied housegods in their musty niches, Burns and Scott, sham bards of a sham nation, And spiritual defeat wrapped warm in riches, No pride but pride of pelf.
Long since the young Fought in great bloody battles to carve out This towering pulpit of the Golden Calf, Montrose, Mackail, Argyle, perverse and brave, Twisted the stream, unhooped the ancestral hill.
Never had Dee or Don or Yarrow or Till Huddled such thriftless honour in a grave.
Such wasted bravery idle as a song, Such hard-won ill might prove Time's verdict wrong, And melt to pity the annalist's iron tongue.


Written by Wilfred Owen | |

Winter Song

 The browns, the olives, and the yellows died,
And were swept up to heaven; where they glowed
Each dawn and set of sun till Christmastide,
And when the land lay pale for them, pale-snowed,
Fell back, and down the snow-drifts flamed and flowed.
From off your face, into the winds of winter, The sun-brown and the summer-gold are blowing; But they shall gleam with spiritual glinter, When paler beauty on your brows falls snowing, And through those snows my looks shall be soft-going.