The silent bell rings in the night,
Calling the devils to kneel to the light,
What once was, becomes no more,
As the light breaks through the open door.
What you think and what you feel,
What you saw and thought was real,
Is now only dust on the road,
The desolate remains of your ancient abode.
The new light is rising on the hill,
The new song is singing down in the well,
The new souls are dreaming of your face,
The new hearts are beating at you pace.
The old ideas and reasons you gave,
Are buried in the tomb and in the grave,
The rotting bone and flesh are gone,
In the morning dew, in the morning sun.
The light shines through the open door,
Casts no shadow on the old dirty floor,
The ancient laws of reason and might,
Crumble to dust in the morning light.
What once was real and certain as rock,
Is now the dream the baby forgot,
The new light coming to wake you my love,
The silent lamb and the flying dove.
more of my poems at :
Copyright © ness tillson | Year Posted 2013
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know God watches over me.
If you think about it, I’m sure you will have to agree.
He can count all the stars in the sky, and call them by name...
He knows your heart’s cries and who is to blame.
I’m thankful for God’s watchful eye,
Because he understands when you question why.
He has given us all many different things,
But to go to heaven does not come without strings.
Copyright © Brenda McGrath | Year Posted 2016
Her talented hands paint the piano
with perfect classical concerts, and
technology is the basket where her
music can always make rainbows
in the sky before my eyes, and one
day before my grandchildren's eyes.
Black and white photos of the past
suddenly become a bouquet of flowers
in my hands, and color rise like the sun.
Their faces move and breathe, since
I realize that their blood now bounds
through my heart on a day to day reality.
Stories bring alive faces never seen,
and the individual words are thousands
of puzzle pieces where in the end, time
binds them all together, and I understand
the history of my family even more.
Her religious faith, a carved wooden box,
where daily Scripture gives her strength.
Also, the belief in God blooms in a forest
of strong thoughts in her mind. She gladly
listens to the singing birds, the angels of
Heaven and tells their story to me.
Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2016
Feather soft, cloud light, baby innocent
Gentle white never touching down
Alive, winding through leaf and tender branch
Together with the wind, happy in another land
Serenely floating as from heavens origin
Osmium, solid smoke, all heavier things on earth
Rocks, boulder dark, over weight, can only watch
With eternal peace, Mary holds the remnant of the bird
In her sacred hands
Imagine her, the abundant care for us she has
Crushing serpents beneath her feet
We know tranquility
Relieved of the burden from above
Eternally, Mary holds it all together
Like a leaf and feather as easily as she can
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015
How the ‘I Ching’ came about.
Once there lived a wise old man
His name, it was Lau Tzu
This man he lived in ancient China
And what he loved to do
Is watch the birds, and all the beasts
And watch the rivers flow
He had no time for the foolish ones
Who’d say these words ‘I know!’
Folk would come from miles around
To hear this old man speak
Hanging on to every word
For they had come to seek
The secret of their lives, through him
Though he had naught to say
Except to flow just like a river
And live your life today.
One day he made to go and live
Where the forests, they grew wild
But he was stopped there at the gate
For the guards he had beguiled
They made him stop and write a book
Before they’d let him go
That’s how the ‘I Ching’ came about
A book to help folk grow.
26 December 2013
Copyright © peter duggan | Year Posted 2016
Do you see me up there God, and know my heart?
All that I held dear is now worlds apart.
I am like a new bird getting her wings.
Give me more faith Lord, for all that life brings.
Copyright © Brenda McGrath | Year Posted 2016
Mary and Joseph
To the miracle
A brave heart
Born to soar
In the dark days before extinction a bird soars
A free spirit
Copyright © LINDA JACKSON | Year Posted 2013
I saw him lying there-
Still in death, and wounded severe.
This little sparrow, created by God,
Watched over by him…now’s he’s lying here.
Did God forget to care for him?
No, this little fellow made a foolish mistake.
He left the fellowship of his feathered friends,
To fly alone…Now, for him my heart aches.
We, too, need the fellowship of others,
As we journey through this life.
Friends add sunshine, divide grief and sorrow,
Substract loneliness, and multiply joy and delight!
Copyright © Betty Butler | Year Posted 2016
Hummingbird, you are a stunning creature,
Your fast-flitting wings can hardly be seen,
Your long, graceful beak a trademark feature,
Your feathers are an iridescent sheen.
Ocean, you hold back so many secrets,
What man has the power to master you?
A habitat for turtles and egrets,
You have a nurturing and tame side too.
Mankind, you have so much ability,
You carry such capacity for love,
Bodies possess strength and agility,
Your heart, spirit, and mind—a treasure trove.
All began in God's imagination,
You are parts of a blessed creation.
August 19, 2016
Copyright © Kim Bond | Year Posted 2016