Poem | |
"A Near-Death Experience of A Sweetheart"
Floating through a corridor between two different Worlds
among white fluffy clouds and shimmering stars awhile wind unfurls
racing into darkness: destination to death's door
living in a heavenly kingdom ... forevermore ...
Traveling through deep tunnel as cold fingers touch
walls of blackened essence creating thoughts to clutch
quickly toward a bright white light of peace
my soul and spirit being experienced soft release ...
Rushing to a Paradise, landing on streets of gold
seeing the Face of God so clearly to behold
longing to embrace my dear departed family
loved ones who had gone before to their final destiny ...
Their captivating smiles excited my soul
sharing love once more as was in their earthly roll
but a huge white Angel stood between my track
he spoke mentally "child of God you must go back.
And yet, I was not sad but happy to have seen
my precious treasured relatives cuddled by Supreme Being
why? I questioned must I return to Planet Earth?
Angel responed not your time to stay
your purpose unfulfilled for God to cherish every day ...
Suddenly transported through the tunnel smelling flowers
a jorney taking minutes but feeling like hours
and soon the sights and sounds ignited quiet hospital room
while my loved ones endured possibility of doom ...
My husband was squeezing my hand so tight I felt his love
as my children sobbed so loud praying to above
my eyes opened wide as I inhaled a breath
escaping to my body while I avoided Death ...
This near-death experience was an inspiration
for another realm exists in utter fascination
for now the message lives to enjoy both love and life
have no fear for death is harmless and erases strife ...
Hover close to God and always give Him thankxxx
through trials and tribulations He relieves all angst
Treasure every moment and anticipate the end
a beutiful place is waiting reuniting family and friends ...
Kisses and hugs replaced those solitary tears
knowing what lies ahead extinguishes all fears
please celebrate the gift of life in grateful attitude
Eternity is awesome with unending interlude ...
Poem | |
THERE HE WAS HOLDING OUT HIS HAND.
God, can I hold your hand and go with you?
My sweet child, it is I who will walk with you now! You walked down my path with and without faith. You took my protection to ease your pain. My shielded wings comfort you during your moments of suffering while your life staggered across the earth... Your love and devotion is what made you strong. Every time your dreams were broken. You managed to build more dreams in their place. You called my name during your happiest and saddest moments. You always ran up to me when you fell behind. Your secrets became our private talks. The key to your heart was always unlocked. I was there during your trials and troubles of tribulations. We could not speak, but it was my light that would not allow you to get weak.
Is this that dream of beauty? The one in the book my preacher spoke of.
Yes! I remember it now it is called paradise. I felt this company once before, Lord.
Many times, I have forsaken this light, and still it never left my door.
I felt it the day I was born, and the day I became baptized in your holy name.
I felt this light before, can you explain it some more?
Lord pleases clarify that day I fell down to my knees and accepted Jesus as my savior?
Every day since, I felt as if you stood away and walked on by, allowing me to face my own failures’. Was my life a waste in this impossible world?"
My child, this is the everlasting light you will feel every time your body is re-born onto a new road. This light never left you.
My sweet child did you not listen, Matthew *19:26* MY SON looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with ME all things are possible. My child you were not searching for the right answers.
My Lord everyone told me if I prayed you would come. Did I not pray right?
My child sometimes your heart asked for more than life itself, which left questions for someone else.
At times how could I answer when you shunned heaven away from your eyes?
The obvious question is whether this is the final immersing of your souls disguises.
Lord, I have other questions to ask.
What should I expect out of my personal sins? My testimonial sits in the palm of your hand.
My mind and my heart's inner core have been wicked since my adolescence days.
How is it that I am in your promise land?
Getting right with me has brought you here!
One more question My Heavenly Father.
Can I see her? I meant, could I see them? My Daughter, Mother's and Sisters~
Poem | |
I am a wish a prayer from mortals lips
That reached heaven and touched God’s fingertips
And returned to earth wrapped in flesh and blood
A gift from God’s unconditional love
So love and cherish me as God does you
And guide and teach me well in all I do
And through the years a garden we will grow
Filled with the fragrant beauty of the rose
And on the day I reach maturity
And feel the need like leaves to leave the tree
To show the world the colors that are me
Rejoice in all the beauty that you see
For I am your child the gift that God gave
No More than a wish and a prayer - away.
Author: Elaine George
Poem | |
Trust not in the words: "In God We Trust", printed on currency,
for God and Money should be kept separate,
unless one desires to tempt fate with the Money-God,
tempt fate by not over-turning the money-lenders' tables,
although many might argue how this isn't good for business.
Why not know the value of life,
instead of focusing too hard on the prices of Idols.
People are bleating at the prospect of "God" being removed
from money, arguing that if God is removed from money,
the grazing grounds will become Godless.
With or without the words,
a Money-God is a God nonetheless.
There is at least one true God,
whether man-made or not;
an authority of control,
a God of profit margins.
Violence is a profit margin.
Hatred is a profit margin.
Bullets, Amendments, and Death, are all profit margins.
The war being waged upon children, is a profit margin.
If I had been given the chance,
I would have tried my best to take him out,
morphed the vapours of my remaining hatred into bullets,
or torn him apart with my hands.
To stop innocents from losing their innocence.
There are lines drawn in minds,
that if crossed over, stretch beyond the bristle-board of rehabilitation.
Even Clockwork Orange bleeds into crimson spatters.
When a child survives a massacre,
runs across his school field to find safety from a stranger,
proclaiming to the stranger, "I can't go back to my school, it isn't safe there.
My teacher was killed, I don't have a teacher anymore.
All of my friends are dead."....
....then innocence has been lost, and the Money-God is empowered even more.
Lost innocence spreads like a disease through the minds of global villagers.
Fear breeds fear, breeds control and disintegration of the Stream-Mind.
If I had been given the chance,
I would have fought fire with fire,
fed the beast within,
taken him apart with a breath of hatred.
Breathed it out, pushed it out, purged it out.
Satan is a scapegoat used by people who are unwilling
to take accountability for their actions and sacred responsibilities.
The Beast is humanity -
not marked by a fairy-tale Devil,
but instead marked by the Money-God created in the image of man;
recreating the image of man through fear.
Some people might be intrigued by how many definitions of God there are.
Even if money is a necessity,
within our core there should reside a different Kingdom -
without and within, within and without.
If I had been given the chance -- past tense....
....if I am given the chance,
I will try my best to take him out,
smudge him out
with the remaining hatred in my heart.
Breathe it out, push it out, purge it out,
until all that's left is to love,
until all that's left is to love.
December 14th, 2012 - S.H.E.S: 28 - 2 = 26
January 7th, 2013
Poem | |
My hungry heart and thirsty soul yearns for refill...
Darkness and light roll then turn me up and down.
Laughter and cries conjure caress my being in shrill.
Gaping aghast to running rush caused a run-down!
Yet, You my God comforted me 'neath water tides try.
In trials and confusion, Your Sovereign a rock still.
To shaky hope and weakness, Your grace empowers my will.
The wilderness brings forth spring when I found yea...
Hearing the sweetness of your voice in silence
unfolds truth - healing wells of pains and woes...
Heaven's breath by blossoms smell brought no shyness
of searching... finding... knowing You more and more...
Stars and moon shine along with my life's lamp shall bow
in praise and worship, the deepest reverence I can offer.
Thanking you until my life is done, my forever vow.
As finding You, my God within labyrinths sets order...
August 10. 2013
FIRST PLACE, GLORY
CONTEST: FINDING GOD
SPONSOR: Gale Angel
Inspired by Biblical Verses:
*Acts 17:27: That they should seek God, in the hope that they might feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us,
**Matthew 7:8 = For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.
***Jeremiah 33:3 - call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and
hidden things that you have not known.
Poem | |
I am a character
In search of my author
Walking great distances in a circle
Wishing for a plot
Wanting a destination
Perhaps a soliloquy
Please fill my lips with your words
If you wish I will play the fool
You be my King
I am yours to rule
For too long
I have been without a script
From a confused heart my thoughts have dripped
Within your story I wish to be gripped
The Author of me
From whom I have roamed
Through your scriptures I will comb
Till I learn the lines that lead me home
As I study please capture my mind
Till within my spirit we are intertwined
Light from light no longer blind
You are the beginning and completion of me
Apart from you I cease to be
Thankyou, Thankyou for helping me see
The part of Your story written for me
Poem | |
What goes up must come down.
No colors can define who you are.
You may own a cart or limousine.
We'll still reach the end when it is near.
I may be poor today and eat from trash.
Tomorrow, you can't tell. I'll earn some cash.
The bed where you lie is soft and wide.
I sleep at a sidewalk and the stars are my lamp.
You wake up each morn' with a feast on your table
While we are scavenging to fill stomachs when we're able.
Our destiny isn't written in the stars.
We work for a living to thrive in this life.
Be thankful every morning you witness the sun
And pray tonight that no one lives same as I.
Wheels come in full circle,rolling round and round.
Today you'll be on top,
I am watching from the ground.
Let us bear in our minds that we are better than birds.
Our loving Father ensures each mouth is fed.
Not even the smallest details can pass by His eyes.
So plant a seed of kindness and reap a better life.
*5th Place winner
Poem | |
I found you again today
On a majestic mountain peak
Your beauty made me breathless
So full of awe I couldn't speak
Yesterday I found you
In the face of an orphaned child
On my knees I touched your cheek
You looked at me and smiled
You were there in the wings of dawn
Kissed me with a gentle breeze
Like a postcard straight from Heaven
A glorious sunrise simply to please
You are found on distant ocean waves
As far as the eye can see
I can't escape your presence
Because I'm finding you in me
7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
Contest: Gail's "Finding God"
Poem | |
As today.. tis 4th of July
May Blessings come
before Your eyes
All Praise and Glory
be to God Almighty
As You watch and see
Beyond and within Fireworks
Sparkling lights glares
Beholding Lights of Beauty
Love of God everywhere
when You see Fire-lights
Sparkling within the night
Tis just like
God Beauty is given Inside
Behold beautiful Souls
Whom within hearts
Fire-lights are Lit-Glow
In hopes that others
Shall see.. come to Believe
God's Radiant Light
Given His Gift of Love
Only Through Our Savior
Comes to Jesus
Fire-Lights of Love lit-within
Born-again.. Free from their sin
God's Glorious Light
Shall Always Shine
Within Our Hearts.. Souls.. Minds
Awaiting for the Precious time
When Our Savior.. Our Messiah
Comes to take Us home
up High.. within the Sky..
Behold.. All Born-again Souls
Hearts on Fire-Lights Glow
As Radiant.. Beautiful Love
Sparkling Star-bursts Lights
Showers of Glorious Love
Radiant and Bright
As Jesus comes from Heavens
Lights Bursting in Air
Souls together everywhere
Gether High in Sky..
Meeting Our Glorious Light
Our Savior.. Jesus Christ
Come to Jesus
Beautiful Colors bursting of Love
God's Beautiful gift
When time be
You then too.. Be swept up..
born-again.. Into Gods Eternal Light
Set Free.. Fire-light lit
Stars Sparkling Lights
For God is the One
that makes all things happen
God's Beautiful Glory
As Souls Like Stars bursting in air
As Jesus comes.. Like.. through the Night
Holy Spirit of Love.. non can compare
Shall No longer be here
For then Rapture..
Has Taken place
Whomsoever is born-again
Beholding God's Grace
Will be transformed
Reborn.. Sparking Love
Changed in Twinkling Light
Gone Home to be
With Jesus Christ
Our Glorious King
Everlasting Glorious Colors
Pure Holy Light.. Eternity
Come behold God’s Holy Light
As the Star Bursting through the night
Be Saved through God’s Radiant Glorious Light
Our Savior ..Jesus Christ
Poem | |
Days pass into the weakest of loveless nights. The moon blinks.
The stars swirl beneath the colored brush of Van Gogh. He links.
Comets trail snowfields of light pass agonized cypresses, schizophrenic concussion.
On and on, the wind twirls the trees and does not complain,
nor, does the cosmos cringe awaiting reciprocation.
Lightening bugs mimic the starlight, atoms sneer.
Those who spout love and friendship abandon him sneering.
Their images dance beneath his half closed lids, when he blinks.
Though denied visual compass, his soul does not reciprocate.
Through pain, physical and mental, palpable pain, he still links,
with the life which has both absorbed and excluded him not complaining.
Night passes without his mistress, Sien. His mind writhes, eternal concussion.
His torn visage trembles with the brass sounds the storm's ranting concussions.
The butcher, the baker the candlestick maker, derides and sneers.
How unmerciful is this cycle, this God to whom he does not complain?
And, if indeed, lack of mercy is just, may he not know “Why?” Time blinks.
Just the act of thinking causes pain. Only painting connects him to the link.
He must accept both the pain and the art as gifts, choosing not to reciprocate.
Voices always the voices, the paint, the moon, the voices, reciprocate.
He chases the mice. The cheese, pewter plate and all, falls with concussion.
He rubs the backs of gnarled hands across his lids, maintaining the link.
“How? Why?" But, the mice eating his cheese grimace and sneer.
Inside the cottage sunflowers shimmer and wiggle in vases, as he blinks.
Stumbling, he falls in an attempt to sit, the insubstantial chair does not complain.
He had thought God clear, clear as sunlight, yet the damn paint Lord! complained.
He was Not God, and try as he would, the light escaped. He MUST reciprocate.
After all who was he, but a mere man, ashes to dust, life blinks.
“Ah death…le grand mal…no minor concussion,”
He must escape this mortal coil, join the celestial spin without their sneers.
Sick, he was sick, yes, sick to death of not being understood, no link.