These Angel Introspection poems are examples of Introspection poems about Angel. These are the best examples of Angel Introspection poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Angel wings are not feathered but they are real,
Made from lighter stuff and stronger.
They have a metaphysical feel,
And last an eternity longer.
The feel of an Angel wing is not a sensation like touch.
It’s on a higher more philosophical plane.
The usual senses are only a crutch,
Like trying to explain snow while in the rain.
To feel an angel wing flutter,
One must “ know thyself ”,
And remove the “me” clutter,
To reveal the naked shelf.
You know that fellow that always angers you,
And makes you retaliate every time?
Remember recently when he was through,
You smiled and didn’t even mind?
And how with your children, you pray to be patient,
And cry and blow up instead?
Then why today, when they tried your patience,
Those were tears of joy you shed?
These experiences and many others,
When asked for in earnest prayer,
Are simply Angel wing flutters,
Teaching us how to live and care.
These are the feel of Angel wings,
Not privy to the usual five,
But made of heavenly things,
Sublime, real, ..fully alive.
The dewy morning’s pink dawn
When the doe with her new born fawn
Steps out of the glen
Dancing to the song of the wren
Then angel dust is seen
When the baby girl in her sweet sleep
Smiles with pretty dimples so deep
Fills tenderness in the mother’s eyes
As she wistfully looks at the skies
Then angel dust is seen
When the old lady around the corner
Warms her hands on the tin burner
And a passerby around her gently places
A warm shawl with soft laces
Then angel dust is seen
When life becomes hard and dark
There are no new songs from the lark
Trials and heartbreak knock at the door
And every day is a heavy chore
Then angel dust is seen
It whispers softly with the breeze
And settles on those weak and dry trees
Magic gently plays on the heart strings
A harbinger of gentle springs
Angel dust is seen
By- Tahera Mannan
In the northern heavens her essence so vivid
My constant seraphic star
Basking within her gloriousness warming
Cleaves to me from distances far
Guiding my pathway on night lit Earth
Keeping my course right and true
Holding back storms until I reach my safe haven
To witness the next dawn rise anew
Those nights when cover clouds her features
Her radiance rushes in on the winds
Blessing my journey seeing me home safely
Forgiving my ways absolving my sins
Morning starts breaking and my cherub starts fading
Past the horizon waters falling so deep
Awaiting the rising of her mettle so tender
Of that maternal star light unique.
There is a spirit that watches over you
In the daylight hours, and nightime too.
You may not think that they are there
But there is a way to make you aware.
I learned the name of my angel a long time ago
Because I was interested and I wanted to know.
His name is "Maximus" and is with me here
To learn of his presence once made me fear.
Because what you do is watched all the day
The angel keeps tabs, God finds out that way.
I guess you think I'm being naive
Trust your faith, if you believe.
If you want to know your angel's name
There is a way to find out which is no game.
Say a prayer for three days in a row
And after each time ask him to reveal his name to you.
If you believe in him he will tell you true
If not, he may be silent to you.
I know of others who have tried this I can say
Some, have learned the names of their angels this way.
When you pray for their name do not think it absurd
Some, I know, will hear that singular word.
It won't come as a shout from heaven on high
But rather as a whisper, when your angel is nigh.
These spiritual beings are here for us all
Sometimes they wait just to here us call.
And when you do wouldn't if be grand
If you knew the spirit's name...who behind you stands!
Try it and see if you think I'm fooling around
Be honest with yourself with both feet on the ground.
As someday that spiritual angel you will greet
Wouldn't it be nice to be on a "first name" basis when you meet?
And if you try but do not hear their name
Keep on trying because your conviction was lame.
I know many will think I'm crazy with this
But knowing my angel's name has brought comfort and bliss.
So try it yourself and see if in kind
If your angel will speak to you...they really don't mind.
Because then a dialogue with them you can share,
Even if they never speak again, you'll know...they're there.
When death came, I declared that I could not leave soon
For I had not seen the summer flowers in bloom
Starting them from just a seed back when there was still snow.. white
As they began maturing, I could tell each one on sight
Just large enough to be transplanted that spring day
The blooms were visible in thought only, in May
The angel came in early morn to take me by the hand
I bid him let me stay because my life was just sand
Now I have a new responsibility here
Down where the flowers bloom and to me are so dear
Life is not just about the house, washing the dishes clean
It's about love, our fellowman; only a few I've seen
Thank you death angel for letting me stay that day
I'll give this life that I've got left the best day's pay
"Times Square was magnet to rejoicing
hearts, as mine was on that day the victors
came. With roses, red, as were perhaps,
my cheeks, I vowed each bloom for
every home-come valiant there I'd see."
"I see her still despite the sixty years,
a taintless angel clutching there a bunch
of roses, red, as were her lips, a pair of
magnets that had drawn me close and
closer yet, and in a flash, the kiss."
"The kiss, a flash of light, and all from
senses blotted out, save for warm, tender
lips on mine, my body backward bent
in sweet surrender held by arms, the scent
of roses crushed between our breasts."
"Our breasts thus pressed, the roses in
between; how long did we remain thus
still in time? For but a span of breath
commingled, held? A moment's measure
of twined heartbeats kept in trance?"
"In swooning trance, then rudely snapped
out from by surging mass, rejoicing river
crowd, there wrenching him away, and me,
still stunned, forgetting there to hand him
but a single, breast-pressed rose."
"A single rose, if but to press to lips, or
in between the pages of a book held dear,
a keepsake from an angel kissed but with
no name to call in sleep-failed nights,
for failing there to even give my name."
"My name, I wish I had the sense there
but to whisper to his ear then yet so close.
Perhaps, it would have been the key
to worlds away from lonely wards and
wakeful nights with just the sick with me."
"With me is but the memory of lips, their
warmth the years have deftly dimmed;
that kiss, a quick-eyed lens man stilled, now
wrought a lifelike replica of vanished time,
one budding love rose crushed by fickle fate."
(Dedicated to Folake)
Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.
Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.
May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.
Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.
Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.
Who am I?
W-eaned from tender
age,in noble family of ten.
H-urt by the demise of
the tube that brought
me into this theater of
struggles and pains.
O-rdered about by the
whimps of this
world,facing the hurdles
of life daily from
cradle,never giving up
A-fine young man of 28
I am,who has the
experience and wisdom
of the aged.
M-astering the arts of
life-learning from lessons
of life's victims and
didactic poems 'cos man
of fame I intend to be for
I bear the name Bob.
I-lost my poetic gift at a
stage but recovered it in
poetrysoup for invisible
entities say a
lesser being I shall be,but
another encourages me
to move on,for great is
one who comes out of
the shackles of life
undeterred for this is who
Name: Ifeanyi Bob
They are bound to the Earth like trees
Suffocating under the weight of an icy grave
Reaching to be free, but only their limbs are seen
Hoping that one day someone will see:
They can't escape with lacerated wings
The ocean surrounds me, covering everything
Nothing will be clearly seen; confusion overwhelming
No-one can save you, you're on your own, left to die
Manipulating every bleeding heart you can find
I can't escape with lacerated wings.
Swarms of nets, waves of screams
Entangle: your captive illusions and dreams
The mask has be seared - The truth now they see
The Liar - Vampiric Fiend; lowly thief
And now they know you can't escape with Lacerated Wings
There's reasons for your rejections:
Your Heavy heart's transferred oppression
The scars are too deep to pass the trials
But you can find peace in your cage of empty spirals
You Cannot Escape With Lacerated Wings
I once was like a catipiller young,naive,and new
Always living from my heart not knowing what
else to do.Easy to take advantage of, that is
just the case, people would walk over me
like I was their dirty used up suitcase.
Now I feel a newness coming, like a light
shining from the sky, colors fill my world
and I know I am blooming into a butterfly.
Purple,Pink, Blue and Green I can feel them
flowing through. Colors of the rainbow raising
me into full bloom. Wise and strong I am becoming
My faith leads me where I need to go giving me
insight and wiseness for only me to know.
I have not done this on my own you see
I have been guided by God and Angels
on this Earth. Wise words the wisdom at
it's best comes from a wise lady who
seems to know me best. Lucky, I am
to have her in my life, she always shoots
it straight and tells me like it is, knowing
her words touch my heart and gives me tons of faith..
I feel like flying through the sky or climbing
a tree way up high. I feel like observing the
world just like a brand new butterfly so as I
Bloom I become Anew something unlike the past
Smart and wise beautiful on the inside and outside
a touch of color here a touch of color there
makes me glow and become a beautiful blooming butterfly...
Written By: Christina A McCullouch