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Nature Spiritual Poems | Nature Poems About Spiritual

These Nature Spiritual poems are examples of Nature poems about Spiritual. These are the best examples of Nature Spiritual poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Ancient Warrior

I see the wrinkles in your suntanned brow,
You carried burdens then; you see them now.
You’ve heard the cries your people who in pain,
Have shed their tears two hundred years like rain. 

Your sad brown eyes, reflecting now the sky
I see the wings of eagles flying by
Beside you stands an Appaloosa mare
Her spirit one with you now over there.

You hear the drums, they bid you to come near,
Your spirit drawn the beats they ring so clear.
Song like prayers are chanted through the night,
Calling you come, and help them end their plight.  

You’ve heard sad cries and now stand at their side,
You join the prayers with both arms open wide,
United spirits sing until the dawn,
When in the fire’s flames a golden fawn.

Remembering a smile crosses your face,
When tribes were one with Mother Nature’s grace.
The lakes and streams flowing with waters clear,
Flow sadly now, the planet lives in fear.

The weightless feathers that adorn your head
Your tribes grey future weighed you down instead.
Now breathing deep you smell the winds of change
While here on earth your people rearrange.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
Giorgio A.V. Contest 
Iambic Pentameter 
1st place

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Here, Again: The Autumn Equinox

Written for the Avebury Gorsedd, 24th September 2016  
I wish you well...

I’m here, again…
Come riding in, upon the western wave
My hair all wove with golden leaves, my breast
As pale as moonlight on a hidden grave
And all the sins of summer long confessed

I come, again…
In sweeping skirts, with white swan feathers strewn
To brush the summer dust from weary grass
Make ash of aspen, damp the flame of noon
Before the frost freeze water into glass 
I bring, to you…
Windfallen apples, berries from the hedge
Long shadows on the barrows, and the chalk
Wild winds to stir the willows and the sedge
And mist, and myth, down every path you walk

I’m here, again…
The promise of the harvest to fulfil
The energy of autumn, streaming through
The swirling springs that spiral round the hill
To drench the land in red and russet hue

I come, again…
Between the longest day and shortest night
To fill the blood and marrow of your bones
With all the orange glory of the light
Before the dark descend upon the stones

I bring, to you…
A cornucopia of ripened fruit
Dark juices of the vine in bottles bright
To nourish soul and body, to transmute
Your thought to dream, your dream to second sight

For I am She…
Am Autumn writ, in every field and tree
Am mistress of the Owl and running Hare
So yield unto my kiss, and blesséd be
And dance with me, oh Druid, if you dare…

@ Gail Foster 23rd September 2016

Copyright © Gail Foster | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

Breath of love

I wander in the nature’s green, trees in rows the birds preen Like a gem glimmers the morning dew, with a precious diamond’s hue And flowers bloom as I gaze anew, eggs hatch to welcome lives in queue I can smell the wondrous earth, the distant flow of water in mirth It’s a new dawn another day thereof, wherein I sense his breath of love. As I prod on the old man smiles, he delivers milk by cycling miles Passing the farmers sweet abode, the cry of new life reaches the road A child wails by the neighbour’s door, with a sweet candy her eyes adore Roaming the street is a hound grown, pups trailing behind unknown A jocund street undreamed of, wherein I sense his breath of love. My dearest rush out sighting me afar, without whom my life is a war The tiny tots in their cradles lie, as we sing a lullaby This is the world I am part of, wherein I sense his breath of love. © (4 Feb '15) * Honourable mention in the contest 'Enter a poem #1' by Poet Destroyer

Copyright © poesy relish | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haibun | |

Inspired by Gaia

Rays of sunlight awaken and skies of sapphire inspire, when mother lies back with eyes veiled, breathing out life and breathing in spirit. She is the fertile earth and boundless sky. She glides through eternity, rising and falling. Her hair, once the color of midnight, now shines silver like beams from the full moon, and the stars encircling her, illuminate creation, igniting dreams and enchanting sleepless nights. As we, who no longer walk barefoot upon the earth, busy ourselves, forgetting to lift our eyes in witness to her majesty and her beauty and her grace. Our hearts still beat in unison with her essence. Beneath the stars, we walk upon the same dusty earth as our ancestors. The sky rumbles all around us with echoes of the past, and in stillness, she feels the knees of the forgotten pressed against her chest giving thanks for her nurturing breath. 

spirits veil her eyes -
drifting through sapphire sky
constellations align

*Haibun form inspired by Susan Seddon Boulet’s Gaia 
(for Debbie Guzzi’s Free Verse, Prose, Haibun Contest, 11/1/2014)  

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2014

Details | Acrostic | |


Enchanting melodies call me to the lush green forest, the
calls of soprano birds singing to my spirit, heart, soul, blissfully.
Sweet rhapsodies enthrall me to dwell within this intoxicating forest.
Trancelike and enraptured, I fall into the emerald and the lovely wildflowers,
and the forest has a magical spell on my beauty.  I dwell in this green dream.
Stillness, you will find with me in the lush, do not be afraid, just step into rapture.
You will find euphoria and peace, now take my hand and you will be transported . . . 

June 28, 2016

Acrostic Free Verse

For the contest, Ecstasy
sponsor, John Hamilton

Third Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Rtrn

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Cinquain | |

Weeping Willow

                                              The tall
                                        Weeping willow
                                     Waves majestically
                        Somehow she seems to be haunted

                           She’s merely airing her branches
                                   In the windy meadow
                                       Being heard by

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Fall 2012
This is know as a Mirror Cinquain
5 Lines + 5 Lines
Syllables 1-2  2-4  3-6  4-8  5-2        6-2  7-8  8-6  9-4  10-2

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet | |

Respecting the Universe

A listening sky overhead,
hears whispers of our words, unsaid.
And though, sometimes, we feel alone,
that mere existance matters not,
or that one life will be forgot,
a chain links us to the unknown.
A listening sky overhead,
hears whispers of our words, unsaid.

We are a part of earth and sky,
as one with nature, when we die.
And though, sometimes, we feel alone,
a chain links us to the unknown.
A listening sky overhead,
hears whispers of our words, unsaid.

For Dr. Ram's Contest: Sonnetino Rispetto "Respect"

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Peaceful Waters

Peaceful Waters 

Peaceful waters;
flow through my mind.
Helping me;
to leave worries behind.

Peaceful waters;
stir my soul.
Taking me;
Closer to my goal.

Peaceful waters;
heal my heart.
Calming me;
While we're apart.

Peaceful waters;
where the Creator abides.
Connecting me;
As a spiritual guide.

Peaceful waters;
restoring my gleam. 
Soothing my spirit;
Carrying me to dreams.

Darlene Doll Smith

Copyright © Darlene Smith | Year Posted 2015

Details | Blank verse | |

The Wheel in September

I've startled a frog, who leaps in flashes.
He and a grasshopper zig-zag away.
The lawn whispers mildly, in tune with the sun,
Yet something's amiss--the air is unsettled.
Squirrels and I stash away seeds,
salvaged from spent, rain-ravaged beds.
Bees are now torpid and cling to the mums.
Bedraggled zinnias give up the ghost.

It's a mixed-up magic--Sleeping Beauty
spies the Grim Reaper, who's eyeing the wheel.
She tries to distract him with colorful swirls,
but the spokes are pre-programmed; the sickle's in hand.
What becomes of the Grim Reaper's harvest,
of creatures who cannot withstand the strain?
The mystery hides in an infinite point--
the one in the center of The Great Hub--
the crux of a myriad transformations.

Copyright © Carol Mays | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |


She's the first image of God
the Alpha    the Omega
the beginning   NO end
the highest evolution of God
God sent
the Black woman is God
nappy   nappy
the master
the servant
still happy  happy
the first image of God
strength that cannot be broken
soul that cannot be bought with a
silver or gold token
she’s the first image of God
Mother of the rainbow children
Lucy    Auset   Isis    Virgin Mary
I know  
sounds scary   scary
the Black woman is God
skin as brown as dirt 
divine flower sprung from the earth
she’s the first image of God
Original descender
return of Christ
Nibiru ascender
the universal womb of God
divine womb   divine wombman
holding the knowledge of God
the Black woman is the mystery of God
 Isis   Genesis 
genealogy of God

Copyright © Nailah Baniti | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

4 White Horses

4 White Horses called to me
from across their field on that 1 day
They called my mind to come and see
their everyday scene so...overlooked

The gazes were steady the hearts true
as innocence pulled us together
Their knowledge of my soul was a wondrous feeling of trust...
their warm soft muzzles like velvet in my hands

Though fence between us...
I could feel their wild hearts racing across the plains
Massive white clouds rode the wind past the sun
sweeping shadows over the land like prehistoric birds

The scene calmly arouses memories of peace...of youth...of freedom
I feel a oneness with this land...with this moment...with this dream
I feel a oneness with these creatures so Majestic and Serene

Time could never change their hearts
or even taint their souls
and I could not tear myself away when it was time to go
Deep breath in... Deep breath out
I wished silently that all creatures could be at such peace
on that 1 day

-hope you enjoy this inspiration of a creature that changed my heart

Copyright © Chris Hagy | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse | |

A Question in the Sky

The Epitaph of Earth may soon be writ
Upon the memory of a glory gone
For all things bright and beautiful, that inter-fused with death
Like harmony and breath have fled as one
   -Suzanne Delaney 

A Question in the Sky

There's a desert some place, where the sky fell through,
as the monsoons of March fervently proclaim, Must it be?
And there's a gardener some place      (looking just like you)
whose heart now floats on what can only be called Hydrangea Sea.
And there's a question in the sky, that makes me wonder why,
we think for a moment, we can do better than this our planet.
For if we're made from Dust, why not share some love,
for the ground beneath you      (do you see what's peeking through?)
For love is a fragile seed and if we don't care for it
the Epitaph of Earth may soon be writ.

... and what an elegy it would conjure! But I will weep just like a songbird,
for these tears, they carry a rebellious sheen,
taking me to the place of dandelions dreams,
that grow all the more because of it - watch as they glide
into skies unwritten - avenues forbidden ...
... but forget not your roots on the summer lawn
where malachite grass bid you good cheer,
green with envy at your escapade into azure folds.
Now only the voice of cicadas touch the dawn,
upon the memory of a glory gone.

But we will wait for you, Oh Gossamer King,
though we be tickled by twilight's tender touch,
intermixed sweetly with a hard kind of love.
If I must fall, knock me onto my back, Oh Life!
Onto the dew-laden blades, gazing up at stars,
so I might come to grips with smallness, like Biblical Seth
once did, ushering in future glory, though just a man.
"Appointed" just like the monsoons, that forged tombs, and summer blooms;
make merry the streams of laughing tears that Yeshua wept,
for all things bright and beautiful, that inter-fused with death.

And though often we may not know the reason
we must hold onto the hope       there is a season!
A purpose for this downtime... purpose for this rhyme
For we all have things we must overcome
(just look at the rose who bears a dagger on her dress)
Even she lives in the night, awaiting the rise of the Son.
May there be no requiem composed for my passing,
for I follow the crowd, with eyes on the clouds.
Let us leave to proclaim, in triumph, "It is DONE!"
like harmony and breath have fled as one.

NOTE: If you'd like to read the flip-side of this, where I write the quatrain and Suz expands the thought, please check out her informative blog on this intriguing form, Glosa, as well as her beautifully personal poem, "Living in the Middle".

P.S.S. The name "Yeshua" is the Hebrew reading of the name "Jesus". The reason I put "Appointed" in italics is because the name "Seth" means "appointed", so it's somewhat of an attempt at wordplay.

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

Details | Terzanelle | |

Beneath The Copper Trees

Enhanced by peaceful solitude, in twilight, crimson crowned
There, in tensile grace she stood, enchantment in disguise
Lightly splashed in backlight, where the tender grass had grown

A monumental moment, as she stood before my eyes
First stabbed by startled fear, new trust came pouring down
There, in tensile grace she stood, enchantment in disguise 

Caressed in beauty, and sun embraced, revealed for me alone
Dare I break the silent calm, with breath or just a sigh?
First stabbed by startled fear, new trust came pouring down

A white tailed doe, was grazing there, aware and keen of eye
She perked up ears, alert for sound, yet, still she had not flown
Dare I break the silent calm, with breath or just a sigh?

Or take a step, in chance my foot could rustle twig or loam?
This stance of wills...intense and poised, a fleeting chance to flee
She perked up ears, alert for sound, yet still she had not flown

Eyes made of glass, as windows are, in which the iris tongue
We made no move...each one transfixed, no air in lungs to breathe
So inter-laced, with life force crossed, in universal one
Our spirits twined against the sky, beneath the copper trees


Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain | |

Whisper Of Your Soul

           Whisper Of Your Soul
       (Soul Listens On A Whisper)

Murmurs soft are sensed, mimic nature, diaphanous clouds spread wide
Settle softer than a translucent butterfly on spring light snow
It is the moon flirting in ebullience, fog rising on a thin film on winds side  
Lifting skirts or is it veils?  Unknown in this muted light of whispers glow
Mist rolls across the bog, pulls along reluctant virgin night
By golden glow, that holds the sky in humble hush, abeyance in a trance
Tracking down the birth of morning, bursting full of light 
Barely able to mutter the words, “the light of day”, the endless dance 

You feel the vibrant tones, fold over meadows as you go
A vestigial tiny vessel of a virgin’s secret opens here
Chasing dark away along the marsh with pounding heart to know
The open glen is near, fills up in brilliant colors clear

Soft luscious sounds fall silent on the morning air and then
Listen, it whispers on the minutia of the moment something true 
Holds on to quiet in the silent glen
Waiting on a whisper Imbued with truth, soft thoughts of you

Created on 12/16/14 for “Whisper Of Your Soul” Poetry Contest Sponsored by Gail Angel Doyle

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

I Go

I go to the woods, to the woods I go;
To sit and be alone.
To listen to the voice of above;
to feel, to know, his great love.

I go to the creek, to the creek I go;
To cleanse in the waters pure.
To renew as I was at birth;
To pay homage to Mother Earth.

I go to the fields, to the fields I go;
To welcome each new harvest.
To be grateful for blessings bestowed;
For all who is born, and all who grows.

I go to the sky, to the sky I go;
One day when my journey here be o'er.
Until that day, I walk my road;
Where it takes me, I shall go.

May all your journeys be blessed ones. 

Darlene Doll Smith

Copyright © Darlene Smith | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Subtle Sounds

Listen to the subtle sounds,
surrounding Mother nature.
And you'll hear water chuckling, 
as it gurgles over rocks.

The drone of a humming bird,
or song of a humpback whale.
And the sonic squeaks and clicks,
formed by a chatty dolphin.

A cicada competing,
with the chirp of a cricket.
And the wailing winds whistling, 
within the weeping willows.

Laugher riding white water,
careening off canyon walls.
And you'll hear the voice of God,
you merely have to listen.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

Beautiful day

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!©

Copyright © Betty Bolden | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dizain | |

Rising Sun

Observe how the ants labor without a peep;
Note the fine artistry of the spider's web-spinning;
Who will wake the bear from his long winter sleep?
Stand in awe of the hummingbird flapping its wings;
Listen to the lovely melody the songbirds sing;
Watch the majestic hawks leave their nests and soar;
Bask in the rising sun's heat at the ocean shore.
An invitation into God's presence  
comes from the sun, the creatures, and much more.
All of His creation emits His essence.

Copyright © Kim Bond | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Her Place

As dawn's early mist rises
its wrapped lovingly with care
Blanketed in silence
its sheer beauty is rare.

Muted and glowing
the sun delicately peeks through
It's presence a heavenly
palette of pale earthly hues.

With the whispering wind
swaying amongst fragile limbs
It is transformed like no other
a melodic blissful hymn.

As a soft breeze caresses
the mist gently clears
It is here she has found
a serenity to hold dear.

reworked 08-11-2016

Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry | |

YangTruth with YintegralBeauties

Beauty, like Truth,
speaks eternal promise
yet timeless decomposition.

Flexing Grace
with impacting empathic Truth
optimize promised prophets past
reiterating Golden Mythic Creation Stories.

Many have mentioned strength of compassion
and tenacious flexibility of mutual mindfulness
as Two Horses to effective political-economic
natural-spiritual sufficiency.

Most dominant Yang encultured poli-economic operators
require less YangTruth voice
and more cooperative listening Yintegrity,
less powering over by opting first for powering cooperatively 
WinWin toward truly engaging, multiculturally embracing, outcomes.

Yang speaks integrity of fertile passion,
often urgent.
Yin is aptic-optic-empathic,
yet also can step up to polypathic,
mindful selfless, and too spineless, flexibility
for more competitive deductive-reductive exercises.

Too Yin oppressing cultural feelings,
absence of Yang SelfPassion singing in harmony with CoPassion,
brings depression
about oppressive Yang's nondual pouting doubting absence.

Passionate integrity Left
with grateful flexibility Right,
can bring mindfully optimal strength 
to face conflict,
even climatic boundary issues and situations,
tipping toward nutritional doors needing further opening,
tipping away from toxic possibilities 
currently trending toward more monoculturally closed-door competitive stink.

Love's strength is coordinated integrity,
cooperative flexibiity,
promising mutually mindful gratitude outcomes
for endless generations of Earth's Tribes.

Balanced together,
truth and beauty as passion with multiculturing flexibility,
both universalist Yang and unitarian Yin
synergetically square-dancing bilateral capacities
for receiving love
and for loving influence, production,
articulation within co-arising Now's invitations
into further evolving Grace.

Optimal health/wealth strength in each Eternal Moment
dynamically balances integrity and flexibility,
confluence and yet also the glad-joy memories
of dissonance lost, with gratitude, for strengths of flexibility,
curiosity, empathy.
Old School gut polyculturing wisdoms.
New Economics politically ecotherapeutic optimization,
EcoConscious ReGenesis.

A new (0)-Core PostMillennial health/pathology ruddered threshold
establishing to pursue and play further WinWin deviance
into ecological norms
re-membering evolutionary/revolutionary calibrations past,
more deductively inclusive of other organic polynomials,
balancing positive with double-negative variables,
moments equivalently between past and future
co-evolving systems;
political power positives,
economic co-investment in ecotherapeutic futures
with long-term slow-growth
nutritionally cooperative positive (0)Riginal Health EnCulturing Intent.

Prophesying Evolutionary Outcomes among still-emergent PolyCulturing EarthTribes,
to date,
save for those already passed entirely away,
harbingers of what we are invited to cooperatively change.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet | |

Patiently I wait:

May the wisdom of the serpent be thine,
Close to the earth as it lives underground,
Into the forest, we follow the hind,
Knowledge surrounds all, waiting to be found.

Secretly I sit, silently in awe,
Captivated by all the breathing trees,
Esoteric in nature, I see more,
Against my face, I feel the warmest breeze.

Time stands still when you,re sitting on a hill,
I drift off into a deep calming spell,
Thy soul is replenished, it's gained its fill,
As if I've taken a drink from youths well.

Thou secrets that fall from heavenly heights,
No matter to me if it's days or nights.
(10 syllables per line)

Copyright © Rick Keeble | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy | |

Autumn Leaves

I first met Autumn when I was very, very young,
she was just a shy, quiet girl, but so very bright.
These maple trees were our favorite to play among,
as our laughter faded away with the falling sunlight.

I can still see her brown sweater, and reddish-orange hair,
blowing around her smiling face, like a flickering flame.
Her innocent voice still whispers on October's cool air,
near the place, where our lonely swing remains the same.

As the summer days said goodbye, and welcomed September,
the death of my dear, young friend came all too soon.
Autumn was one of those whom you'd always remember,
her soul was as beautiful as the shining, harvest moon.

She was here, then gone, leaving words that were never spoke,
to this day, I have never understood why Autumn had to leave.
Her presence lingers on the wind, like drifting wood-smoke,
as once a year, her playful spirit arises on All Hallow's Eve.

August, 4th, 2014

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Just Be

Sometimes I admire the littlest things
A simple rock. A blade of grass. 
They need no future goals, no tax exemptions
They don’t need to go anywhere or be anything
They just are. 

Sometimes, especially when I’m reading life insurance policies,
I envy the rocks and the grass
And try to be like them for a moment. 
I sit perfectly still and give myself to the wind-
And it whispers in my ear:
Just be.
And for that moment I don’t need to go anywhere or be anything.
And at the snap of my fingers, 
All the complex widgets and gizmos that make up my life
Fold into paper airplanes and fly off in the wind.

Jacob Reinhardt

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | ABC | |

A Shady Tree

I know its the summer time because of how naturally 
Your beauty compliments the caress of a summer breeze
As I watch the world from beneath a shady tree
I take in the delightful comfort of everything I see
But in the same breath I am holding up my hands
Lord will you please give me back the things I no longer have
They are even more a part of me now that they are gone 
As the sun falls below where the horizon is still holding on
Somewhere between the falling light and a star lit night
Is a dream that last forever and will never say goodbye
As the wind gently blows through the brush and shakes the leaves
It begins to hum a melody that I want to sing
At that very moment I smile for all the joy I have
Its so uplifting for me to see melancholy dance
Soon the morning sun will rise and capture my eyes
As I watch the hand of God paint a brand new sky
With every stroke of color I swallow all my pride
And I find a new place to dream of endless times
If I should ever get to the place I left my broken heart
Only then will I believe this brand new day will start
Again Im reminded of why my heart beats so restlessly
Only the speed of thought and my soul beneath this tree

Copyright © Jesse James Forster | Year Posted 2013

Details | ekphrasis | |

Briton Riviere: Christ in the Wilderness

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.

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: III

Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Pastoral | |



Quiet, peaceful, erect in the morning light
glorifying creation in silent praises.

The night wind blows in a sacred dance
and whispers heavenly praises to you.

The earth below you holds you in a firmament
and sustains its life with praises for you.

Your bow bends as enchanted echos  
resound in praises to you.

As your skin sheds and falls
It rejoices in praises for you.

For you are life, 
the beginning and the end
the source and flow
of all that exists.

And for all these miracles
praises don't suffice;
but just the same from all our kind,
forests large and orchards small,
saplings new, and trunks quite tall,
we thank you in praise everlasting.

CAK 9-2012 Revised 9-16-2013

Copyright © Allan Koven | Year Posted 2013