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Nostalgia Religious Poems | Religious Poems About Nostalgia

These Nostalgia Religious poems are examples of Religious poems about Nostalgia. These are the best examples of Nostalgia Religious poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | I do not know? |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


Details | Haiku |

Haikus About God: V

Omniscient guy
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?


Details | Personification |

Why Should I

Was it enough or was it too much?
Sometimes too fast but always too slow!
God knows that I come with these seeds that grow.
Inside and out I absorb every single touch,
But why should I?
Why should I be the only one that knows?
Stepping through time and sliding back so smooth so I go!
I say I can qualify!
Where was I and why was I there?
Sometimes too obvious but always with doubt!
God knows that I come riding in on a prayer.
I absorb every single touch inside and out,
But why should I? 
Why should I be the only one that cares?
Climbing the highest mountains and sliding down so steep but on a dare!
I say I can magnify!

What did I say and what did I do?
Sometimes too quite but always too loud!
God knows that I come with a gleam that shines so proud.
Inside and out I absorb every single touch by you.
But why should I? 
Why should I be the only one in the crowd?
Walking on water and walking backwards but at least I know how.
I say I can intensify!
Do I want to or do you need me to?
Sometimes I wonder and sometimes I simply don’t care.
God knows that I come standing on a higher sky of blue.
I absorb every single touch by you inside and out with this glare.
But why should I?
Why should I be the only one with this view?
Up in the clouds and aimless but always led by you!
I say, “I SANCTIFY”!


®Registered: 1997  Ann Rich


Details | Rhyme |

We Went to Grandma's House


We went to Grandma’s house the other day! And brought some gifts along the way! We enjoyed our time and our wonderful visit We’re glad we had time with her! We wouldn’t miss it! We took her out and did some shopping in town… There were some good buys waiting to be found! We had a chance to have dinner with her too! This was an opportunity we wanted to do! We had a chance to talk about the days of past. Our memories of her, is something that will last! We enjoyed our time with grandma! Yes we did! She always has something worthwhile to give! We thank the Lord for a special grandma like this! Our times together have been happy and bliss! Please take good care of her Lord, is our prayer! Keep her in your tender mercy and care! We look forward to the next time we spend together! She’ll always be our grandma! Today and forever! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Sonnet |

CIL MAOLCHEADAIR

    CIL MAOLCHEADAIR   (Kilmalkedar)
On such an Irish spring and drizzle morn,
she wandered through the graveyard, looking for
the Celtic dream from which her past was born,
and every sight brought her to wanting more;

she dreamt her roots from carvings on a stone
as if she understood each chip as real,
passed down to only her, and her alone,
from pagan worship she could almost feel;

and she could bundle them within her mind
to share with Pennsylvania kith and kin,
perhaps the magic, if still there to find,
would be an understanding where they've been;

and she will burn her candles every night,
hoping Kilmalkedar will make it right.
       ©  ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Details | Iambic Pentameter |

Your own erin isle

At some Sweet Point in Your Youth
Through Travel Guides beguiled
Searching for Existential Truth
You dreamt of Erin Isles

You longed a quite, simple life
Away form Hectic Glances
Attempt to be Free from Your Strife
For Introspective Chances

To visit the Ancestral home
Or even to Inhabit
Away, In Solitude, Alone
And Keep the Mindful Sabbath

A place where land stays Always Lush
In Emerald Enclosed
The site of Inner Beauty  Bright
In form of Dear Red rose

I Shall Still See the Pilgrims
With Purposely Bared Feet
While Walking though the Sharp Hills
Their Feet Profusely Bleed

I know the Image of Crushing Waves
The stately,Brave stones
They do not Bend nor do They break
And Bear the weight alone

The Crosses and the simple graves
With names already erased
And stone compesed 
As life itself
From Tiny, Pearly grains


Details | Rhyme |

Sasha

Sasha

I remember when I held your hand
And told you about God,
You listened so attentively
And never thought it odd

I remember when I kissed your head
And watched you go to sleep,
We prayed that if you didn’t wake
The Lord your soul would keep

And as you grew I saw your faith
Grow right along with you,
And you included Jesus
In everything you’d do

I became your hero
With me you knew no shame,
Because I followed Jesus
And taught you to do the same

Every time I talked to you
You learned a little more,
You grew and took the things you learned
As you walked out the door

You had your tribulations
And your fair share of strife,
But Jesus had His hand on you
And guided you through life

As it goes, we lived our lives
And struggled through our days,
You chose to follow Jesus
I went the other way

You got big and I got small
As we went through the years,
I got weak and you got strong
You helped me with my fears

I remember you came to the park
And took long walks with me,
You told me Jesus loved me
And He would set me free
I remember when you held my hand
And watched me fall asleep,
And prayed that God would show me
My weary soul He’d keep

Now you’ve become my hero
With you I know no shame,
Because you followed Jesus
And taught me to do the same


Details | Free verse |

Fill Us Again

These days we all are just a bit more wiery ,
Even on common ground we have become leary.
  Trust is much harder to come by  these days,
Losing our faith has made us lose our way.
  Kindness & compassion a thing of the past,
Because of this love and Joy can not last.
  Smiles and laughter a rare thing to see ,
How I miss the way it use to be.
  We have become helpless and tolerant to unjust,
As we watch our hopes and dreams turn to dust.
  Discouraging words is all I am hearing anymore,
A little kindness and support would help for sure.
  It's sad as I sit here and see how we have all changed,
What makes it worse is that we are the blame.
  How to fix all  this and get us heading straight,
There is a way but fear it might be to late.
  If only we would take more time to pray,
It wouldn't be long before we found  our way.
  Becoming cold and heartless is what I've always feared,
I pray for our Lord to take us all away from here.
  Fill our hearts with love and joy again ,
We will follow you Lord forever Amen.
TAC