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 - 184.108.40.206. 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!©
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.
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
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
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
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.
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
Since childhood I was always fascinated with nature
Curious to know how plants grow
Always intrigued by the ingenuity of ants
And mesmerized by the coordination
And spectacular tactics of birds.
Birds come in different colors and species
They symbolize many conditions and have various
Significance and meaning in different cultures.
You have the nightingale and the humming birds
And the whippoorwill is perhaps the most cunning
of all species because it can camouflage itself.
Even though you can hear its distinctive sound
It's difficult to be identified.
I used to listen to them singing in nature
singing melodious tune, tunes that span beyond
Centuries, tunes reminding us that life is still divine.
I love to watch them soaring in the sky
flying from north to east, south to west
Until nature bids them to take their rest.
Birds embrace freedom and they hold the power of truth
they are unique messengers so the next time you see one
land on your doorstep just figure out if it is genuinely from nature
who send it, and what it is trying to say before you angrily chase it away.
Birds have wit and might, they are powerful
communication tools, they earn their keep from nature
and that’s how they stay alive
like the cows and the sheep
they can see way out in the deep.
Something peculiar has been happening in nature
I have been observing something unusual from the sky
While walking down the street the sun burst from
underneath a dark, cold overcast sky
and spread its light over me then suddenly disappeared.
Each time I take a stroll an army of birds appear from
nowhere and split up into different directions,
they form groups of six, seven and eight, three,
four, two, one and groups of twelve.
Sometimes they are so many that I can hardly count them.
It didn't seem as if they were on a journey, it appeared as if
They were caged up somewhere and were suddenly released
into the atmosphere.
My curiosity grew deeper when I pounced upon
a man attracting the birds with feed laced with
corn grain and black sunflower seeds.
This was quite unusual because
no one in the entire neighborhood feed birds
I could read right into this mysterious cultural behavior
not only was he making a statement,
he was marking something by placing
the bowl of feed in front of the house
under my window and luring the birds to
fly from all directions to feed from the bowl.
They say that black birds are symbol of human soul
and they symbolize happiness, intelligence and wisdom;
they also have deep religious meaning.
Always remember that everything we do
evil always hinges close by good
to make things seem inconspicuous.
Legend has it to say that the devil appeared to St. Benedict
in the form of a black bird to tempt him.
Long time ago my kindergarten teacher
used to teach me this poem by mother goose,
“Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye,
four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened the birds began to sing
wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king?
The king was in the counting-house counting out his money,
the queen was in the parlor eating bread and honey,
the maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes.
Along came a blackbird and snipped off her nose.”
Birds are free habitats of nature
they do not earn their keep from artificial feed
but from natural food in the environment.
So the next time you see a bowl of bird feed
laced with black sun flower seed and corn
do not take it for granted
something is deeper than bird feed.
©2015 Christine Phillips
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.
Silence has spoken
From the roaring of the tides
God is a river
Not the material guy
I’m not the material guy
Ambitions were never for I
I’m always the one
That gets noting done
I’m a dreamer, I cannot deny.
My mind it is not very clever
My heart is as light as a feather
My manner is free
Like a bird in a tree
And I never will worry, not ever
Just like a river I’ll flow
And always my heart it will glow
I won’t push the river
So life does deliver
A feeling that each day does grow
Until the day that I die
I won’t let a day pass me by
Without looking at me
At within, what I be
As always I’ll ask ‘Who am I?’
18 September 2013 @1800hrs.
Vincent, we adore your Starry Night,
Illuminant to the inner being,
Undercurrents of celestial,
Brilliant and intriguing.
Dali, we love your vision,
Etching with great precision,
Alive with startling surrealism,
Reflecting human indecision.
Monet, you paint dreams,
E’ry bouquet picturesque,
Midday, sunrise, sunset,
Ballet dancers stretch and arabesque.
But God, You always take the cake,
Your work they only imitate,
Reprints of all You create,
E'ry shore, mountain, and snowflake.
April 2, 2014
Form: Cross Lento
The blue waters,
The green trees,
The blue skies,
The light breeze,
The crisp air,
The birds sing,
The puffed clouds;
An earthly existence
A universe beyond my minds, comprehension
Life lessons reviewed
I am not lost, after all!
I am a willing participant
Serving, the Father, of all creation
His son combined, ‘producing life’ as we know it
Representing them, in everything I do
I am nothing, without Love!
My heart full of faith, loyal service I give
Learning how to unconditionally serve, as the Father unconditionally, loves me
Worshipping our Divine Creator’s existence
Choosing to live, moment to moment
Being as one with ‘Our Universal Father’
No physical permanency
My physicality, disappearing
My mortality existence, I let go of
My spirit alive!
‘I am only passing through!’
A unique, experience of mortality
A gift, I am blessed to experience, to live!
One Christmas star
Life dusts disperse.
A child of God
Like trees in sod.
All on Earth laud.
December 8, 2014
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: DESIDERATA
Sponsor nette onclaud
I Chose Theme #2
a manifestation of a deity or released soul in bodily form on earth; an incarnate divine teacher.
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
I was once kissed by the sun
Caressed in oils my breasts bathed free
like growth in my womb
kissing the moon
Capturing my true essence
unmasked, plain, pure
Naked in love my insecurities
gave birth to my esteem
But then I became free
from the taunting and ridicule of
socieity's template of me
by adopting a new personality
One that reflects the real me
I like poetry I like to sing
I understand my spiritual need
I like love
I like the breeze
I like rhythm and passion
and long lasting nights of
random acts of sensual moments that
awaken parts of me previously repressed
The love I feel is so unrest
I was once kissed by the sun
It's power gave me light and enabled my writing to become
leaving footprints on the ink in my pen
Some of thoughts escaped through actions of sin
Unspoken words just thrown away
Never spoken, or written again
Awakened by the sun
all drenched in it's heat
Praising it's soure of power
and embracing humility
Giving what I have to give
Learned to let go it's easier to forgive
We strive for riches but lest we forget
the richness of the sun
Each day be thankful for his son
I while away these morning hours
With the sky so very dark
A trillion stars they sparkle brightly
As I’m strolling though this park
With Bear cub rushing on ahead
So excited that he’s free
It’s seems that we’re the only two
Who walk beneath these trees .
The rain is heavy in the air
Though it’s not falling yet
I love it when the rain comes down
My heart fills with regret
If the drops don’t touch my skin
With their early morning sweetness
I love to feel their tingling touch
As my face they do caress.
Ah, here it comes, the air is filled
With moonbeams soft yet bright
Sparkling like a trillion gems
To give such sweet delight
To eyes all bathed in velvet soft
As the rain caresses me
There’s something about this morning rain
So filled with mystery.
14 July 2013 @ 0412hrs.
Simple but Elegant
Daughter of my mother
Lover of Nature, colors Green and White
Who feels sad that the world is overpowered with darkness
Depressed that people are fighting
Happy that I'm different
Who would like to see all people in one faith, loving each other and have patience over all things
Reside in Daly City, California
As the morning sunlight falls ,
On the dew laden flower ,
Workers stir within their beds ,
Blessing the minutes to the hour ,
The drunkard stirs in wind swept streets ,
As babies demand their feed ,
Whilst birds and bees take flight in hope ,
A new day in search of feed ,
But as the sun does slowly rise ,
All this would seem to cease ,
Fear not it is only intermission ,
In the next show of natures peace .
Wish was sent to agree,
And mouth was given to wish,
And heart was made to joy,
For I still beg to come true.
I dream for what I can’t,
And I do what I can.
My friends were born in a stage
Of thousand and lakes,
But I was born in the class of hundred.
I wore sweater for its cold,
But my friend wore blazer of its winter.
I play with stone,
But my friend plays with coins.
I cried with tears,
But my friend cried with things.
I travel with bus,
But My friend travel with plane.
I wish big dream,
But my friend still wishes their childhood
For they don’t know,
Times still travelling with those endless river,
Day will go slowly,
But time will run fast
For there is no wish to come again
It’s always better to be poor in earth
And wise in heaven.
Nehemiah theophylus haokip
The natural man, the flesh, the pride,
will ever hate the One Who died;
the One Who rose to blessed Life.
The natural man, a man of strife,
whose heart is harder than a stone,
can never care about a soul,
though it be his very own.
He puts his hands into a bowl,
to wash away his guilt and shame.
"I'm innocent! I'm not to blame!"
He says aloud for all to hear.
The living God he does not fear.
Nor does he dare incline his ear,
to Wisdom, though it be so near.
Nor can his eyes perceive the Light.
The Morning Star is much too bright.
The natural man, of earth and dust,
whose finest armor turns to rust,
whose glory as the fading leaf,
whose triumph turns to mourning grief,
while standing at the judgment day,
in terror of the price to pay.
Angels drag him to the throne,
where he must face his God alone.
His each and every single sin,
each wicked thought from deep within,
the LORD declares and makes all known.
The awesome wrath of God now shown!
Angels drag him to the flame.
He bears the weight that he must claim.
All hope is gone, replaced by fear.
All memories are crystal clear;
regrets to fill and burst the mind.
He begs for God to make him blind.
It's all too much for him to see.
God only mocks his helpless plea.
The crushing weight of Infinite,
shall tread him in the fiery pit,
sulfuric lust, and lava flow.
Cackle of the rooster's crow;
siren for the sinful mind,
to recall a God so kind.
He Whose love was spit upon,
stricken til His beauty gone,
suffering a death so cruel,
God was made to seem a fool.
He rose again in victory!
Ol' Adam knows the ancient story.
Unleash the wrath God kept in store.
The Gospel's no good news no more.
It will not save the reprobate.
Christ has shut the mercy gate.
Just as he mocked and cursed God's Name,
The LORD will now treat him the same.
Let saints now pass all thought of them,
and fix their eyes upon the Gem.
All as one to raise one voice,
in songs of praise. As one, rejoice!
They ever shall give thanks, of love,
unto the Father up above,
and to the Son Whose face they see,
Whose Spirit dwells eternally,
with those elect. They cannot fall.
In Christ is God, as One in all.
When we go to heaven will you dance with me
will you finally see the shelter you provided
the love you showed for me in time
your hand in mine so freely wide
When we go to heaven will we walk along the sea
hand in hand you and me
Will we see Jesus together and feel free
so close to Him you and me
When we go to heaven can we walk the streets of gold
He paved for us
I see the time in my mind so clear
us walking side by side
so free and so near
I will look for you one day above
when we go to heaven we'll be free
you, and me and Jesus,
Written by://©Betty Bolden
All Poems are copyright!
My, you’re brimming with eggs, oh singing robin redbreast,
Fly to the mulberry branch with your saffron yarn to build your nest.
And hello, mandarin butterfly, look how anxiously you flit,
Here and there until at last upon the elm branch you sit.
Look on the hickory branch, you can observe a predator stalk,
The neighborhood hawk will hoist his prey to the tower loft.
A squirrel launches from an overhead limb into midair,
It rattles loose an avalanche of snow on my scalp and in my hair.
I twist my speech to seem, and be, as white and spotless bone.
Silence 'flecting, like a mirror, on the wall to show
man, so hypocrite and liar. This is who we are.
Man! The curse of sin has brought you far,
into the pits of lusting pyre. Engulf our spirit's flame.
Set afire desire for spit and skin,
bitter sweat, blood, and orifices.
The dawning of Aquarius. The sun has set on Pices.
This crooked generation, like as Sodom and Gomorrah.
As that faithful Lot, I am, and live amongst the tares.
My neighbors live and speak as I, when I can find no faith.
I guilty of the same as they, the Scripture saith.
I e'er be found in heaven... it be not that I am good.
Nor can I love God enough to trust Him as I should.
My own love and faith is full of fault and fear.
My faults and fears, my sin, is loud and clear.
If Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
impute not Life, a man is lost.
Charm pink upon the horizon
Steel blue clouds many shapes
Ripe pears 'pon the soft dew touched ground
Life has good no mistake
A dog and cat sit in my lap
Cat's claws a source of pain
Nothing compared to what He felt
From the thorns His crown contained
My life has been blessed by His gift
When He came to redeem
A lose and perverse humanity
And gain back man's esteem
The Mockingbird chatters nearby
Those roosters crow at play
Today is like many others
Could He call His church today
The buds opening
at the break of day
is the stem's hymn
to the Ancient of Days
egret on sand dune
fish breaks surface and flies free
coconut pours milk