These Christian Nature poems are examples of Nature poems about Christian. These are the best examples of Christian Nature poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
My heart is amazed by His boundless compassion
My heart is in awe of the love of the Lord
The hand of His mercy endureth forever
What riches of kindness in heaven are stored!
My heart is amazed at the sight of creation
My heart is in awe of the works of the King
The fountains and river, the depth of the ocean,
The rock and the trees of His greatness shall sing!
My heart is amazed on the height of the mountain
My heart is in awe of the stars in the sky
Unmoving, unchanging, the Lord is eternal
Though years of the mortal so quickly fly by
My heart is amazed by the lamb and the lion
My heart is in awe of the birds in the air
Created for man by the hands of the Master
The heights and the depths of his dwelling to share
My heart is amazed by the King of the nations
My heart is in awe of His death on the tree
The Lamb that was Slain, by the word of the Father
Arose from the grave my Redeemer to be!
-- By Isaiah Zerbst- Feb 9, 2013 - 126.96.36.199. metre --
Oh how beautiful the day you gave to me
A new and bright glorious day your mercy is new and your love is fresh
Lord I desire your ways and your rest to see your hand touch my life
Is great and peaceful and keeps me right
I stand and look inside my soul
The way you make things unfold
The little things Lord they make me new
The touch of the wind gives me life from you.
The flowers and there fragrance are lifting me up
I love you Lord your precious to me even though I fail and wander you take me in and make me humble
Your ways are glorious why can't the world see the light you give inside me take my hand Lord help me be
The woman you made when you set me free.
Written by:©Betty Bolden
All poems are copyright!©
THE RED/BLACK ROSE
If I a placid pond sit
Still my shallow grounds
Engulfed within the woods
Submerged and bound
Arrayed with ruby rings
Robed in brunette pearls
What jewel would justly paint
With brush my clearest tint
Wouldst any drown the drink
The tongue calls a quench
Cool and clear as white
Atop the moonlit sky
Or wouldst the treasuries' trees
Reveal arising clips depicting
Darkened depths entrenched
In deep demise
Doth God's glory glide
The ornamented floor
Moving mortal millions
To probe, dip, and dive
Beneath the brittle creek
In buried ocean mines
To touch and taste, then tell
Of seas the sands confine
If raids of floral floods
Could frame the fluid's face
As angels frame the figure
Of heaven's sovereign God
Then pluck the petaled stem
The prototyped rendition
Of red/darkened rose
Which colors my condition
The Rose innocent white, soft pink, yellows
colors touch your soul vibrant red to amethyst
enhances beauty yet a thorn awaits to break skin
as life does piercing your heart with a thin pin.
My life has shed drops of blood through each petal
as if in return for the love and beauty you feel
hence pain underneath patiently waits the bloodletting ~
The rose symbolizes love yet vulnerable to hold
for when you open your heart it can be left bleeding
The best of surgeons can not beat your heart
It is the inner faith and God himself whom gives strength
whispers in your ear you shall live you will exist
your life meaningful as the water and sun to the rose
For I am your God your existence is not over yet .
You must Live ~You must Bloom
Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change
People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.
People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names
The list could go on
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou,
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew
George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise
Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X,
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle,
But obviously greatness can be done.
We can rise above this stigma
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
In the exact moment that I am right now
I stand in a sea of vulnerability;
susceptible to the effects of causes around me
and since I am fully aware,
I own my surroundings
I am one with sounds and vibrations
resonating from the earth;
I am that pulse of the drum beat
thats been thrashing
inside me since birth
Right now, I am exactly as I am
deeply flawed and misjudged
used, victimized and persecuted
Right now I am you in the absolute
Right now, I am exactly as I am
balanced, whole and complete
attracting abundance and certainty
Right now I am peace - still you
Right now, I am exactly as I am
Run, run, run and give it all up!
Into His arms, commend your love!
Through Him, you are saved!
What a beautiful, glorious day!
She prowls the night
with clenched jaw and pride,
nothing able to smite
her remorseless stride.
The ominous reflection of moon
shines forth from devouring eyes
of a nocturnal beauty spun on the loom
of the Creator's bid and sighs.
Grace moves her every limb
and she precedes an enraged scream
caused by ruins of a forest now grim
and held alive by all but one stream.
Her claws prophesy of vengeance
though her heart yearns for reconciliation.
Yet now there would be no leniency
for a soul's annihilation.
Now on journeys through lush valleys and ashes
she will embark
until all that remains after furious thrashes
will be the tigress' mark.
After I thought a while it seemed clear
it wasn’t the yap, yap, buzz, ring, chat
that drove him away from the city.
Nor the police alarm yaw-yahing
saying danger or someone hurts.
It was the hands. Hands reaching
to touch his face, his hands, head.
Hand to rub his belly or grip his shoulder.
Hands coming from above, or below,
little squirts tugging at his clothes.
Once away into the hidden places
where no one lives the animals peeked
so further he went, seeking grit
to rub against, hard stone for bed,
the cold of stars above in the night.
A place where lizards basked from afar--
other survivors looking for a drink of water,
a drink of alone to coil within breast,
for weariness to weight the legs
heart pumping alone, be still, find grace
with the end of the tolling bells.
Where self is a light to breathe upon
let flare into true soul, the space
where heart flares out like a beacon
for all to hold and when you’re ablaze
there’s none to say they are you they.
Just peace. Belief. Tomorrow rising
with a hunger that goes beyond feed
goes beyond trust, goes beyond life
to a beauty amazed to find where once
having found blaze it never goes out
ready to hand out and hand out.
Back to the jungle once again
A long journey has come to an end
Over the clouds, through the hills
and down the river I have came
Everything is a little different
But somewhat the same
Here lie a people that used to be slaves
It was on this river they made their escape
Here they built houses of wood and stone
And created a place they could call their own
They make their living off the land
By the work of many strong hands
They have built this vibrant community
That my eyes have been privileged to see
By a glance all I may see is poverty
By a closer look, I now see true beauty
And not merely the endless scenery
or the luscious foliage and greenery
But in the people I have come to serve
And in turn who I have let serve me
In ways it feels, I truly don’t deserve
So listen closely, let me tell you a story
Mothers and daughters down by the water
Beating laundry with paddles, the sun grows hotter
I approach with my boots covered in junk
I place them in the water with a soft plunk
I attempt to remove the thick red clay
she takes them from me and washes away
She scrubs until there is no sign
of any speck of dirt or grime
Thank you very much is all I can say
I now ponder would I do the same?
If the situation were reversed
Do I really believe the first will be last
And the last will be first?
Can I honestly say that I would choose
to take the grimy, muddy, dirty shoes
of a foreigner I hardly even know?
Would I humble and bring myself low?
In all honesty I really don’t know
But therein lies the true beauty,
I now see
Amidst what appears by a glance,
to be poverty
So don’t merely judge by what you see,
that beyond the poverty,
there may be
A true beauty, yet to be seen