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Narrative Spiritual Poems | Narrative Poems About Spiritual

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

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On Becoming Enlightened

As Christmas draws near I contemplate my faith.
Jesus spent many years away, yet no one knows
For sure why, or where, or how, but destiny's lure.
When he happened upon meeting the teachers
Who would guide his steps with the knowledge
Needed in guiding ours, he was anointed with
Sacred oils and the perfect time for his return
To teach the yearning masses was revealed.
He taught in parables to be better understood
So that even the youngest children could grasp
The lesson, and so his words would be spread
By many as he knew his earth time was short.
Even the least of non-believers lives by these
Teachings, though they may never realize it.

Simple truths, compassion for others, kindness
To animals, love’s consideration for humanity,
Helping the helpless in reaching out to strangers.
These have been manifested inside our DNA
To help the broken souls who need help most.
Faith instills courage, yields strength, and endows
Peace that helps to conquer the greatest of fears.
It is among one of the most blessed gifts taught,
Along with forgiveness, to be honored and revered.
As this winter season has been chosen to honor
His blessed birth, I also deign to honor his teachers.
If you visualize their light in others of all races, creeds,
And faiths, you are on the true path of enlightenment.

"Blessed birth and destined death are both divine."


December 8, 2015
For the contest "Any Poem"
Sponsor Broken Wings


Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2015

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Scars of Love- A True Valentine Story

War leaves scars. They are emotional. They are physical. They are spiritual.

My brother had proposed to my sister-in-law on Valentine's Day, and so it was on that fateful day, 12 years later that his and her lives would change forever.

My brother had invited his wife to the posh Phonecia Hotel in Beirut for a cosy romantic lunch date while their three kids were in school. They decided to sit at a table facing the window so they could see the beautiful view outside. They could see the azure sky touching the Mediterranean in the distance.

At first, they sat opposite each other, but feeling amorous, my brother asked Pam to sit next to him. She was facing the glass window. 

During the meal, as they chatted, little did they know that a very important government official was passing on a street close by and that this event would mark them forever. 

"On 14 February 2005, Rafic Hariri, the former Prime Minister of Lebanon, was killed, along with 21 others, when explosives equivalent of around 1,000 kilograms of TNT (2,200 pounds) were detonated as his motorcade drove near the St. George Hotel in Beirut."

This was only a short distance from where my brother and his wife were having their Valentine meal. The glass window imploded when the car bombs detonated, and my brother and his wife were thrown off their chairs.  They were soaked in blood and for a while, found it hard to see or know what had happened. They were in a daze. The extensive bleeding was caused by the shards of glass they had been peppered with as the floor to ceiling glass imploded. They looked at each other and the ghastly sight was more than they could take. 

In the mayhem that ensued, they were able to make their way outside the building with other injured people. Eventually, an ambulance rushed then to the nearby American University Hospital. It was nearby because my brother taught in the Business Department of the American University of Beirut, so they had decided to have a quick lunch in the nearby vicinity.

Extensive work was done on both their faces. My sister-in-aw had a tooth knocked out from the force of the impact as she was thrown to the ground. Her injuries were more obvious as she had been sitting facing the glass. Up to this day, my brother sometimes has pieces of glass make their way to the surface of the skin on his face, and he has to pull them out. That's how deeply they became embedded.

When later asked if they wanted cosmetic surgery done to cover up the zig zag scars on their faces, my spunky Canadian sister-in-law replied, "Why should we? This is part of our history, of what we have been through, and it gives us a great story to tell."

I wish I were as brave as she is. The three children had a hard time seeing their parents in this state. Pam had to stay in intensive care for a while and when the kids finally did get to see her, Dylan, the middle child, burst out crying and said, "Mama, I don't like what's happened to your face."

This is life in Lebanon. We have lived through the war. We have survived. We have scars that tell the stories. I have written a full article on this, and will post a few excerpts later. 

We live in a spiritual battlefield. Christ came to rescue us, the wounded and the dying. He CHOSE to walk into the war zone. Jesus carries the scars in his hands and in his side of that rescue mission. He carries these marks for eternity, a sign of His great love and passion for us and for our salvation. He came to rescue the hostages of war....and "by His stripes, we are healed."

Isaiah 53: 5- 

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
    and by his wounds we are healed

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015

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Climbing Levels Of Spiritual Enlightenment

learning from the past turning the dark into light grasping a lesson from our Father climbing levels of enlightenment The Almighty presents us with lessons each and everyday it is our job to acknowledge the lessons and grow from them Although presented in different ways we all go through the same lessons in life I call it "climbing levels of spiritual enlightenment" if you grasp the lesson presented and live by that lesson you will begin your climb if you fail to live by that lesson you will tumble back down over and over hence the lessons will be presented to you once again until you achieve them The lessons are not always pleasant as the flesh cries out in pain as I climb and fall throughout my life the agony is soon replace with delight a little pain to receive a blessing from our King What appears to be a failure or a loss with no way out is simply a hidden blessing , a gift from our King...... It's time to start climbing!!! lets grow strong..........

Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2010

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Heritage of Faith


The apostles entrusted the “Sacred deposit” of the faith
Contained in Sacred scripture and Tradition
To the whole Church
By adhering to this heritage
The entire holy people
United to its pastors
Remains always faithful to the teaching of the apostles
The brotherhood
To the breaking of bread
Prayers
So, in maintaining
Practicing
Professing the faith that has been handed on
There should be a remarkable harmony between the bishops
Faithful

1132015

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2015

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My Princess Of Imagination

                                        MY PRINCESS OF IMAGINATION
                                       -----------------------------
                                       -----------------------------

You are an empress of Heaven who descended on earth
A dear angel of God has taken birth

Your presence brings an awesome fragrance of joy
You are more beautiful than the Helen Of Troy

You resemble a symbol of peace, calmness, wonder and cheer
Like numerous scented flowers engulfed the entire atmosphere

Your presence enthralls the atmosphere with such an ardent passion
Flowers bloom, birds sing, oceans roar, Heaven rejoices in a supernatural fashion

Being a stranger but yet so familiar is an experience of mystery
I wanna be with your present, wanna be with the dreams of your future but never become your past history

I know nothing of you... but your life is a holy book written so well
Synonymous in nature to a religious novel

Every word of which would be so pious and divine
Their utterance will strengthen my soul and make it purely refined

And every word of which I wish you would share with me
And I would keep on listening with extreme curiosity

Hope this book of your life is so lengthy never ending and complicated
That while explaining me with clarity, your entire life is dedicated
Going through your inspiring life will make my mind so captivated
That in things of the world my attention will be never diverted

I would sync deep into your thoughts dreams and emotions
Explore your life like navigating through the depth of mighty oceans
The facts of your life will be as delightful as your nature
Synonymous in experience with a lifetime adventure 
                          to be remembered forever

I wish I was a memorable entity always alive in the vicinity of your thought
Some one who gifted u a special feeling which is beyond the scope of being bought
Spiritual connection with you is magical pleasure. My soul rejuvenates a lot

Your life is extraordinary, it is an eternal bliss
Similar to such a wonderful voyage, the bitter past I shall never reminisce 

Your soul resembles heaven's beauty filled with an angel's grace
I wish to find rest and comfort in such a sacred place

Worldly creatures are mesmerized by your supreme fragrance of serenity
The peace u provide, the calmness u bring resembles an heavenly entity
Synonymous to a medical replenishment of decaying souls to repair all their defects
Such that all disturbance, grief and sorrow are conquered and lose their effects

By the holiness of your spirit every evil existence shall perish
This divine revolution will leave behind only sweet remains to cherish
You bring forth the delight of eternity, a heavenly aura and shine
Which enlightens, encourages depressed souls, their lives renewed and new hopes defined

The everlasting impact of your presence inspires me to build an immortal attachment
And reside under your shadow which symbolizes an abode of holy settlement

I observe a pattern of silence in your behavior
I am unsure if this is part of your natural gesture
What is the reason for this sense of melancholy strain?
May be there is some trauma which brings you pain
Some moments of life you spend in mere solitude
What made u acquire such a lonely attitude?

I pray in your life there must not be any sorrow
Even if there is, I would willfully like to borrow
Any cloud of darkness over your life is beyond my tolerance
No power can besiege your holy throne of reverence

Alas and at last, there is something to say
I am striving with a pathetic feeling of dismay
Why I am so helpless that can not talk to you
Why are you a stranger? Am I some one so new?
Albeit a stranger, why I feel myself so close to you

Its my dream to talk to you for indefinite moments 
To disturb this peaceful conversation, i would'nt prefer ugly opponents

The passion of my imagination is beautiful far beyond the facts of reality
Where in I understand your holy life book in the sacred place with sanctity

I believe you live on earth but exist in the wonders of heaven
Alas your presence in my life may be something I am against hope hopen

Wish for an opportunity to express myself to you
Seems an awkward desire as u consider me so new

In the vision of my imagination, I will always find you near
Your divine presence eliminates any syndrome of fear
And I promise to cherish your presence in my memories till my days are over

I recognize your adorable nature rather than your beautiful look
I already defined you Synonymous to a precious holy book

Wish these feelings on your mind will have a profound impact
Finding acceptance in your life is still an unknown fact
Unknown is whether I bear that supreme fortune to experience your acceptance
Or Else you would consider me unimportant and indulge me in repentance

Wishing you all the best in your future endeavors
To honour my thoughts, please do me some small favours

Give me a true promise that you will forget me never
Request you to cherish these thoughts in your memory with pleasure
And edify yourself as heavenly princess as you are an eternal treasure

Thank You

Copyright © ravin Gupta | Year Posted 2013

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Desire

If the need, anxiety is generated
discomfort or displeasure
can not be stronger than his being
so that pulsion
find rest in pleasure
that the need has reason to his will.

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Copyright © Max Diniz Cruzeiro | Year Posted 2015

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February Winds

Sunday morning
time for sabbath sacraments.

He steps into gusty wind,
some fat splatter sweeps of raindrops,
fall across his porch roof
on down through roaring river valley,
forceful push, then ebb,
February wind storm with rain,
a wondrous primal pair
he adores.

Neighbor birds start liturgical dance
and ritual songs of regeneration
without him.
Already flying quick floating dives
into drama time,
singing back to Brother Wind
howling on his way.

Calling, chanting cantors, conjoin
swelling sacred anti-gravity songs
co-arise blissful sweeping sound,
karmic atmosphere swirls time-rich
sacred rites across his house-bound skin.

Sound of incense sweeps down his river,
north to south with warmer hopes and economic intentions,
remind him time for political baptism.

She incants from the bathtub
in short gusts of warm blast enculturation,
joining his internal gospel choir,
chirps her oppositional descant
challenging and prophesying and occupying
in full-voiced roar of need
as want
right now,
and seldom bothers a please,
much less a thanks
for caring as best he can
to hear her appositional rhythms and patterns,
irritating flows of hard-blown breath
with attitude.

Storm and brew
birds cheer rage in her brain
shouting at co-arising gravity
to blow another way
within her exegetical universe,
her way,
the only way
she can imagine
to function in a reverse and upside down
political world of unheard powerlessness
when inside
she can only find her loud-voiced demands
to turn life around,
spin this slippery wind of Earth
to blow in her right liturgical way.

Baptism completes this wind drenched requiem
of full-life as anti-death survival
to cooperate this week's regenerate vocational intent
and ecopolitical practice.

She joins her dad
for one last look
through jaundiced eye
at drenching rain that could fly back
from whence it came
if only wiser timed to start this day.

Birds now pray their benedictions
quietly in wind-protected nests
while he listens to swollen postlude protest
against eco-agitating time,
uprooting old gnarled systems
decayed for newer holistic use
as compost fades into swaying trees
flown back to join upriver's grace of windblown time,
and forth to rejoin downstream's centerous roots
through winter purging Earth
decomposing dance.

He closes his door to time's external grace
to watch a smile warmly cross her chronic face
like a gust of refreshing wind
through a rainy karmic life.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

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My beloved wife

My beloved wife

It was the crows calling that gave the final warning on this mid October morning.
Just as the mist began falling upon the hills in a strange manner that was almost unnerving.
This morn shall be my final calling as my soul begins souring high above the clouds on this mid October morning.
Signalled by the single rose placed upon my coffin.
Not a healthy rose but one that's wilting, It's red petals fading and it's leaves browning.
It was placed upon my coffin by a loan woman who stands morning on this bitter October morning.

She turns towards home and begins walking, towards my old manor house that now stands rotting.
She passes the spot in the garden where she hid the knife the other morning, just before the police came calling.
Alerted by the chamber maid screaming upon discovering by body laying bleeding.
Murder was the diagnosis, probably by a burglar was the prognosis.
The window was broken and my jewellery was stolen.
They didn't bother to ask about the missing kitchen knife, it was all falling into place for my dearly beloved wife.

As she approached she questions what she saw, large boards placed upon the entrance door.
Upon the door a sign held by a single rusty nail, it read this property is now for sale.
Due to deceased occupants an auction will now take place, in gods grace she calls out from behind her veil of lace.
This can't be true, I felt the morning dew seep through into my newly bought shoe, she pauses for breath as she begins to think things through.
Now the truth begins dawning that it was her soul and not her body that left the hill this morning.
We are now two souls exploring, one up and one down on this bitter October morning.

Copyright © Damien Biggs | Year Posted 2014

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We Are The Fruit

I am the peach.You are the pit.
We'll hang on this tree, until we fall.
And when we fall.Here we sit.
I am the peach.You are the pit.

I am the apple.You are the core.
When we fall from this tree.
We'll leave lots lots more.
I am the apple.You are the core.

I am the banana.You are the skin.
Never peeled off.With this we win.
So we are the fruit.
And we come from a tree.
This tree grows from the ground.
That's part of this earth.
Inwhich we live.
We are the fruit..

Tree Of Life Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1983,2014..
ALL rights reserved..

Copyright © Kim Robin Edwards | Year Posted 2014

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Workshop Poem: Third Parallel

My first love - when we ended,
They told me to pray to God,
And that he would make time,
My new best friend.
And with the love I had for you,
The despair I would fall out of.
My second love - when we ended,
They did not tell me anything,
For what really could they say?
I sit and watch the hands of grace,
Embalming memories of emotion.
Love forbidden to ever die but,
Peace in how under time it hides.
So I still know,
In spirits and parallels,
I am still with you both,
And this was never written.

#2

From a brunette final encore,
they told me to pray to God,
and that he would make time
my new best friend.
And with the love I had for you,
the despair I would fall out of, but
when blond strands reached split ends,
they did not tell me anything,
for what really could they say?
I sat and watched the hands of grace,
embalming memories of emotion.
Love forbidden to ever die, but
peace in how under time it hides.
So I still know,
in spirits and parallels,
I am still with you both,
and this was never written.


Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2014

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Apostolic and Ecclesial Traditions


The tradition in question comes from the apostles
Hands on when they received from Jesus’ teaching examples
What they learned from the Eternal Holy Spirit
First generation of Christian did not have a written New Testament
It demonstrates the process of living tradition

Tradition is to be distinguished from the various theological
Disciplinary
Liturgical or devotional traditions
Born in the local churches over time
These are particular forms
Adapted to different places
Times
In which the great Tradition is expressed in the light of Tradition
The traditions can be retained
Modified
Even abandoned under the guidance of the Church’s magisterium

1132015

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2015

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The Stillness

The Stillness.

The roaring brook did shine upon the wet
rocks, as does the sun and the moon on the
new fallen snow.

I walk alone, alone having only one thought
in mind. Some God must have made all this
Listen, listen, to the sounds.

The brook, the car, the bird, the airplane,
the wind, all have their own sound breaking
into the stillness. But still not fazing it.

If the sun and the moon can say it any better,
let them. I heard their cry in a snow flakes,
eye. The same stillness. Only more.

If I were Lord over all that came, all that is past
and all that is to come, I would say Amen
again and again with only stillness in my glee.

There seems to be a well of stillness, ever
flowing into the sea of life, from whence there
is no escape. I am a part, you are a part.

There is a heaven or hell into which we have
all died. A blessed stillness, a barrier  that
divides God from man. A stillness, with Love   
and reverence for it. For before it, is God.

Copyright © John Hardison | Year Posted 2015

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Swan song

The passionate young man on his way to his love
Walked by a lake carrying a snow-white dove
Inside his shirt he held it close to his heart
When he heard a song - an enchanting work of art

The melody was captivating, full of sorrow -
The cries of a soul for whom there’s no tomorrow
An unknown fear gripped the young man’s heart 
Dark crevasses of life to him were an unknown part

So full of life and hope, inevitability he never had to face
The source of the irresistible sound he wished to trace
He looked behind the dense brushes hiding the water
On seeing a wondrous swan his agitated mind grew calmer

He stood there mesmerized, the scene not comprehending
And a chill he felt from the bottom of his spine ascending
Why does something as beautiful as this must end?
Against a dark premonition himself he could not defend

The song told him everything that was, and ever will be
As he stood there listening, in his mind’s eye he could see
The birth of dreams and hopes, the path and the finish,
The igniting spark, the flame and the death of every wish

The swan sang his last and was swallowed by the lake
Slowly the young man from his vision did wake
He felt the dove in his shirt frantically flutter
He gently held it high and let it go, not a word did he utter


Innocence cannot build his nest in a bosom laden 
And burdened with knowledge so dark and craven
The young man continued his journey to meet his darling
A long shadow followed him in his footsteps crawling

Across the lake on yonder side, hidden by the morning fog
An old man, frail and haggard, sat quietly on a bone-white log
He heard the swan too, and watched it get swallowed by the deep
But at this lonely funeral his half closed eyes did not weep

He felt it in his bones, and knew the end was near 
So the swan song filled his feeble mind with fear
Since he was a young man he searched for the answer
The question being: What comes when to death we do surrender?	

He looked to the sky but in vain, he begged but to no avail
The heavens did not open; his body and spirit were broken
When with the last notes of the swan song resounding
Asking for a sign, he saw a dove above the clouds climbing

On his crooked legs he stood as straight as he could
Raising his hands he pleaded, “Take me, if you would”
The solemn swan song became a victorious celebration,
A joyous symphony of the never ending glory of creation

The frail old body fell back onto the bone-white log
Never again to emerge from that otherworldly fog
But a peaceful smile on the old man’s face remained
Having his long-lost innocence of youth finally regained

Copyright © laszlo kecsedi | Year Posted 2013

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Beauty of the Heart

Your love to me I am on fire.
My desire of the heart it feels.
Your words I hear your voice among them.
I reach out to touch but can not feel.
My empitness of life the void of image I see.
A beauty before my grace I fall to my knees.
My tears they drench in sorrow.
The belove I hold near my heart in dreams.
But only in hopes of tomorrows do I love.
But my every desire to touch and hold you close.
It is my dream to love once more deep in my soul.
But never be alone in darkness and always be love in heart.

Copyright © Steve Harvell | Year Posted 2013

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The Rabbit

Sitting past his chamber door, once was a man who was adored. Every night and every day he had a girl, for whom they stayed. 

After all his love and all his lies, he met a girl who caught his eyes. She went by Bunny for name is not known. He implored her to stay at his place she called cave.

"Oh, my sweet Bunny" claimed the man, "forgive me for being the fool i am". Gazing upon her picture from days not long ago, stood a rabbit at his door. "Flee White Rabbit!" screamed the man, "For i loathe a presence such as yours!".

The Rabbit thumped twice, as it looked at the man, with no expression as it only can. "I loathe a presence such as yours!, leave my house i implore you at once!" barked the man, as the rabbit once more thumped again expressionless as ever.

"Enough!" exclaimed the man while he kicked the rabbit out his door, hopping away with a limp on its leg. " I begged you rabbit to let me be, for not i who took your mobility!", so stopped the rabbit in his way only to look back and thump some more.

"Taunt me no more rabbit, for i am through. you will thump nor live past noon!". said the man as he angrily got his car. Chasing down the rabbit as it hopped away. Raging throughout the streets, only to come to a dead end with the rabbit in his sights.

"Finally", said the man, "your life will perish at my hands" the rabbit thumping as the mans heart races only to charge into the wall. Out of the midst comes the rabbit limping to be grabbed by the ears from the man half dead. "Is there nothing you can do, but try to taunt me i dare of you!" screamed the man

As his blurred vision turned to reality, only to witness the white rabbits identity. "My love?" Bunny whispered face all bruised and right leg twisted. "Its not your fault, only if i had given you medicine, so you can tell from right and wrong" 

She fights for her last gasp as her life is taken while the white rabbit fades from existence. Her hair slips from his hands, "Oh God, I'm a murderer!" he cries "beseech me god, for i am insane!". 

A Black Rabbit with dark red eyes appears on the hood of his car. Thumping so rapidly as the man clenches his heart, to only give a breath of cold. As his lifeless body lays the rabbit again hops away.

Copyright © Miguel Torres | Year Posted 2014

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Enlightened

Quiet allows me to see..
all around me, everything..
gluttony, kindness, hypocrisy..
all at once, knowing.

In silence one is with Spirit.
In silence one can learn.
Why then all the world noise?
Can't you see your bridges burn?

They babble and babble and babble on
while i quietly observe.
They hustle, plot, help or scam..
I see clearly what they serve.

Disgusted with some, Delighted with others.
Everything around is Not as it first appears.



  © Erin L. Adams 2013

Copyright © Erin Adams | Year Posted 2013

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Modes of transmission

Sacred Scripture is the speech of Eternal God
As it is put down in writing
Under the breath of the Eternal Holy Spirit

Holy tradition transmits in its entirety the Word of Eternal God
Entrusted to the apostles by Father Christ, the Lord
So that
Enlightened by the Spirit of truth
They may faithfully preserve
Expound
And spread it abroad by their preaching

Church, to whom the transmission 
Interpretation of Revelation is entrusted
Does not derive her Both Scripture and Tradition
Must be accepted and honored 
Equal sentiments of devotion
Reverence
01122015

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2015

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The Beauty Within

The Beauty Within When a heart is kind Goodness seeps into your mind Peacefulness flows all about As the inner beauty turns inside out When the kindness of the heart is given Energy flows with life worth living All living life comes from the Lord His inner beauty keeps us in accord That glorious beauty of nature Shows God’s kind heart so pure The beauty is an unspoken love That comes from our Lord above When we begin to focus On God’s beauty all around us A sense of peace will slowly start As you feel the goodness of God’s heart It is all the glory of the Lord’s Gracious beauty of His innards Kindness begets kindness like a friend Pouring out all the beauty from within Not everyone can see inner beauty As we all look at others differently Only within the eyes of the beholder Will the true beauty begin to smolder A person is not seen by their outer shell That’s how I see it as far as I can tell A bitter heart that deceives like a crook Appears ugly no matter how great you look Let your heart be kind and always shine Your inner beauty all of the time! Florence McMillian (Flo)

Copyright © Florence McMillian | Year Posted 2014

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Open Acceptance

Open Acceptance

Is to invite all into your life, regardless of  
sexual orientation, race, creed, nationality
or stature.

It is as to say sorry for not having done so 
before but like so many unable to know the
Love in all.

When we are able to put all our cards on the
table, an ace is still an ace, a spade is still
a spade.

In life’s experience we’ve know the value of 
our weakness, the merits of our victories and
shadows of our faith.

We’ve known God as the devil. In better days
we will sing a more triumphant song to the
only God.

A mighty fortress is our God…In our own  
strength confide…no mortal ills prevailing…
God’s Love is never falling.

It is in Christ we belong.

Copyright © John Hardison | Year Posted 2015

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Magisterium of the Church


The task of giving an authentic interpretation of the Word of Eternal God
Has been entrusted to the living
Teaching office of the Church alone
Its authority in this matter exercised in the name of Jesus Christ
It means that the task of interpretation has been entrusted
To the bishops in communion in successor of St. Peter
The bishop of Rome

This Magisterium is not superior to the Word of Eternal God
But it is its friends
It teaches only that has been handed to it
At the divine command with the help of Eternal Holy Spirit
It listens to this devotedly
Guards it with dedication
Expounds it faithfully
All it proposes for belief as being divinely revealed 
Drawn from this single deposit of faith

Mindful of Father Christ’s words to His apostles
“He who hears you, hears me”
The faithful receive with docility the teachings
Derives that their pastors give them in different forms

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2015

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COBWEBS

Cobwebs The inner vision becomes blind When cobwebs clutter the mind With every thought of doubt A new thread weaves about You can no longer see The true sight of reality Your faith begins to slim You can only see the grim The self imposed web Deceives your life ahead You are in a tangled mess Full of weary with no rest The only way to get out Is to let go of the doubt Yes easier said than done Negative views hit everyone Be strong and take a stand Believe in the good at hand That God will see you through No matter what you have to do Take each step in life with ease As you live with inner peace Clear away the cobweb trend It will all work out in the end Florence McMillian (Flo)

Copyright © Florence McMillian | Year Posted 2014

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On That Long Train Ahead

                       On that long train ahead

On that long train ahead, I am always the caboose.

The long train ahead reaches, out into infinity’s heaven.

The Holy Spirit often like an engineer, guiding its destination.

The locomotive makes the most noise, gets credit for the job well done.

The cars in the middle so coupled, mingle with one another so tracked.  

The caboose at the end of the train coasting forward, knowing no ending.

On that long train ahead the caboose not seen will be there, the conductors 

“All aboard” knows.

John H. Hardison..


Copyright © John Hardison | Year Posted 2015

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The Well

A well of crystal clear water, untainted potentiality 
Dug deep in the ground by a house of motionless morality
Refined, dainty dwellers of the house were abounding
But howling winds of doubt on the door came a pounding

The winds brought dark clouds of fear and foreboding
Faith, hope, truthfulness and fidelity have begun eroding
Whence the warlike, wailing winds came there is no telling  
But once the whispers began, of them there was no quelling

The master of the house was enticed and by fear persuaded
His judgment faded and the cosmic for the telluric he traded
Promised he was nothing, perhaps mere elemental existence
But with blind persistence he thirsted for his own subsistence

“Drown your past, smother your pride, and stifle your dignity,
The price for your precious prize will be a mark of infamy”
One by one the master sacrificed and slaughtered his brood 
Lifeless, they were all thrown in the well after being subdued

The water once crystal clear turned murky, opaque and dim
Existence to the master was granted, but life became grim
He stands by the well, peering into the bottomless, abysmal pit
Forever thinking to undo this unhallowed story he`d writ

Copyright © laszlo kecsedi | Year Posted 2013

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Focus on the Good

Inspired by a close friend to remind me to keep holding on to hope as I pass it along.

Focus on the Good To keep your focus Only on the good Doesn't come as easy As it seems it would All the daily hectic-ness With those ups and downs Brings the woe and worry That tries to chase you down It is like being trapped In a wilderness of weeds Ever growing wild and tall For as far the eye can see Then you see a little flower In the weeds bursting through Or was it the few kind words You heard spoken directly to you The fruit of the Heavenly Spirit Full of love, happiness and joy Lives within us to give to others For your goodness to self employ When that flower or bit of kindness Runs into more conflict somewhere Be sure to look before it fades away For another beautiful bloom to appear When you see even a little sparkle Clear away the debris to let it shine Turn away from the discontentment Keep only goodness in your mind For us to inherit His kingdom One thing the Bible does say We should focus on the good Before we find the pathway Florence McMillian (Flo)

Copyright © Florence McMillian | Year Posted 2014

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Transmission of Divine Revelation


Eternal God desires all men
To be saved
To come to the knowledge of the truth
That is of Father Christ Jesus
Father Christ  must be proclaimed  to
All nations
Individuals
So that this revelation may reach
To the ends of the earth

Eternal God graciously arranged
That the things hHe had once revealed
For the salvation of all peoples
Should remain in their entirety
Throughout the ages
Be transmitted to all generations

01112015

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2015

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- WALKING NEAR THE WATERS - 4

WALKING NEAR THE WATERS


Under  the  warm  golden  hug  of sunrise’s bliss
shielded  by  rugged ridges  and flagging  trees
emerged a peaceful scene.

Through   the   clear,  somber,  sleeping,  water
sunlight  revealed shadows  spelling  odes beneath;
odes unfolded by rising ripples in  cerulean gleam,
touched  by  nothing but  the gliding  breeze which 
seizes silt and shingles causing baby currents lift.
Sparkling  like priced pearls  in  the  still  noon,
their waves, a calm heart’s pulse, speak.
 
I linger, tranquil, afloat in the ageless ocean’s
lea, sitting on a dry old rock-sheltered bank,
drinking the healing power from the scene.

Time is suspend; I see the lake like a child,
the  ridges and trees, His grand legions line.
The shadows stretch, His noble progress to a life
unfurled  during  years of  swarming  battles.
But,  He has a wealth of hope and stood amidst
the  sudden  ripples; unmoved by fear, for He
can hold the shifts. He who’s polished  tough 
and  wise  has  championed  in a sunken time.
He  matured.  He populated  good  influence
calling others to imitate his stance. He promised

life without fear cherished with gratitude, and
his shared touch was not dulled by passing years.
His memory endured, so many remember Him.
______________________________________________________
~Inspired by the painting: Lake by Georgia Engelhard ~

***For the painting, Debbi Guzzi's Ten Paintings, Ten Poems, Not for a Contest, thanks for the wonderful experience.

__Olive Eloisa D. Guillermo__
9:17am, January 14, 2015

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2016

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My Devil

      My Devil
My Devil’s stronger,
He feeds on my tears and
Lives in my fears.
My Devil’s hideous,
 He pulls me into darkness and
Keeps himself harmless.
My Devil’s fierce,
The result of procrastination
Who surrounds with frustrations.
My Devil’s dirty,
He kills and bathes with blood
For all he brings is dark evil flood.
But my devil doesn’t know
What it is like after he’s gone
For I have a shoulder to lean on.
But my devil doesn’t feel
That who it is, 
The one to steal his day-dreamed ease.
But my devil doesn’t fear,
Because he doesn’t believe
That there’s something that’ll get me heaved.
But my devil will never regret,
For what he has done
Until the day he’ll be gone.
And the day will someday come,
When my lord will punish the ungrateful
And the day will someday come,
When my devil will be badly broken.
And the day will someday come
When my lord will get him spoken.
And the day will someday come,
When my devil will be banished and vanished from my world.
And the day when that will happen,
My life will be no less than gold.
And it’ll no longer will be devil who’ll keep me behold… 

Copyright © Sweksha Karna | Year Posted 2015

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Salamander

He sought the sacred fire for so long
One day it manifested through a song
The flame was small and gentle, as he ran with it
The dark, deserted streets were beautifully lit

He took it home, spoke not a word
Then came the silent whisper, “Ye must be undeterred”
He took an old wooden clock, broke the hands of time
Fed them to the fire as church bells did chime  

The flames grew stronger, sustenance they craved
Whatever he had he gave, till he was slowly enslaved
He loved the fire, and it consumed all but his desire
He was willingly caught in this miraculous mire

His books and clothes, his possessions were next
They fed the flames as the world stood perplexed 
He knew no father, mother nor needed no friend
He lived for the fire and longed for the end

“You must be weightless if you wish to ascend”
So he burned his dreams and sorrows to transcend
He became empty and hollow inside, a shell of a man,
He felt lighter and lighter and his flight he began

His past and his future still lived in his blood
Quickly he slit his wrists and gave them all up
There he was, drained and hollow, sitting by the fire
With nothing left to do but to expire


He embraced the flames; the heat propelled him higher,
And together they danced forever in a ball of beautiful fire.
So if you meet a salamander on a cold, dark night
Know it`ll teach you about the fire, if you treat it right

Copyright © laszlo kecsedi | Year Posted 2013

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Internet Angel

	One day
Social Worker came
Said, received a call about me
Reported someone harassing me
Answered, worry not, “I’m fine”
[Eternal] God’s taking care of me.

Couple of days
Police detective came, Katie
Interviewed me
Took a copy of Cris picture
Even his son’s picture
Very worried
Brought 2 Social Workers
I took a test, told them the truth
She said, “Oh…He got scammed”
Told them not to worry,” I’m fine”
Said depending with test result
They’ll contact me
Never heard from them ‘til now
Told them “Father Christ got my back”

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2013

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when i leave

When I‘ll get over with this,
With this suffocation,
I want you my Creator,
To make it a memorable day.

Be it unlike a usual day,
though their hearts would still beat,
sun would rise and set,
life would be just as it was before,

so Let me write down something at least,
my shroud be unlike some others,
Even I would've aged, powder me,
THE END should end beautifully.

Don’t widen your eyes,
I’m a simple person with simple unfulfilled Desires,
That meant life, accept that,
Be careful because I was too a bastion like you.

When I’m done with the later offerings,
I 'll know, 
I will be listening __
For all the answers that I have awaited for so long.

closely, in the dust, in the air, 
Out there, I‘ll be watching , vehemently.

Copyright © HINA NASIR | Year Posted 2014