Best Miracle Poems
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Miracle
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Miracle
Poem
Down Fall
Within the warmth of home, I sit amazed
at the gentle fall of snow through window pane.
Cup of tea in hand, my layered thoughts unchain,
and tumble from the tip of tongue unfazed
to land upon a pristine page appraised,
aided by the silent fall through snowy pane.
Oh, the soft white wintry glow 'pon the lane
leaves a graceful drape, Lord be praised.
Within the warmth of home, I muse on themes
of days to come and those gone bye and so,
I thank the Lord for all of nature's schemes,
for the gift of time, for peace, and for the snow.
Oh, make the blanket deep, I wish to dream,
may all my days and 'morrows have this glow.
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Miracle
Poem
He Touched Me
Do you know what it is like to be an untouchable?
To be so filthy and disgusting
That people shrink away from you
Do you know how it corrodes your soul
To see how the stench that follows your rotting flesh
Contorts people’s faces in disgust
Even from miles away?
I tell you, you die a thousand deaths
Each time you see them cover their faces
To protect themselves from the putrid air
That surrounds you
And they scurry away
Revolted by your very shadow
It doesn’t help that you have to scream
“Unclean, Unclean” everywhere you go
It doesn’t help that daily you have to find your food
Left behind an agreed upon boulder
It doesn’t help when you taste the bread
Your wife has baked with loving hands
Knowing that the salt of her tears is mixed in the dough
That nourishes your rotting body
It doesn’t help when visions of her beauty and healthy body
Ravage your mind…for she has become untouchable to you
It doesn’t help when all you remember are the last words
Your crying son sobs into her apron….
“Why does daddy have to leave?”
And you quietly slink away…unable even to hold him
One last time
Being a leper
Is the nightmare you can’t easily shed
How unlike your body that easily sheds
Your fingers…one by one
And then you hear of a Healer
A Nazarene
A carpenter turned preacher
Who mingles with prostitutes
With tax collectors
Society’s untouchables
Outcasts like you and you think…
Maybe…just maybe
I tell you this….
All my yesterdays and all my tomorrows
Were bound in the moment I stood before him
His disciples stepped back
I saw a woman get sick
At the sight of me
And before I knew it, the words tumbled out
“Lord, if you are willing…..you can make me clean.”
I was a crumpled ball on the ground
A discarded piece of human waste
Not daring to look up
My half eaten face covered
Thoughts of my wife, my boy swimming in my head
And pouring out of my eyes in the form of tears
And then for the first time since I was banished to the outskirts of the city
For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime
I felt the touch of another human hand
His hand was on my shoulder
His hand was on MY shoulder
The refuse of humanity
On ME!
Ah…I had forgotten how good it felt to be touched
It was a gentle touch
A touch of love
A touch of healing
“I am willing, be clean.”
I heard whispered in my ear
The warmth of the touch
The nearness of the voice
Were enough to heal my soul
What more could I ask for?
And yet….I felt something else
New life coursed through my veins
A wave of energy
Started from the souls of my feet
Revitalizing every cell as it rushed up to my dazed head
Bursting into a clarity of vision I had not known
I looked at my hands
Yes, these were MY hands
The hands that she had loved to hold against her face
The hands that my son had clung to when he was afraid
The hands of a workman
Young, strong capable hands
There was silence
As they all witness my rebirth
Finally, I looked up to see
The most compassionate face
That I had ever seen in my life
I saw tears running down His face
And yet, His smile rivaled the sun
And the next thing I knew
I was in His embrace
Whole…body and soul
Whole
All because
He touched me.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
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Miracle
Poem
Christmas Miracle in the Ghetto (Co-written with John Moses Freeman)
Peering at the radiating faces of happy families
So much joy emanates from well-to-do children’s sparkling eyes
Wish I could replace the grief, put smiles on the faces of my sons
Without a glimmer of hope even promises of warm meals would be lies
In the brown eyes of my sons, the same eyes their mother, my wife
Sadness the sacrifice, a courageous mother giving life
So great a zest for life she sacrificed to give her sons life
But now greed hath put her seed in peril and my world in strife
No “Help Wanted” signs in the windows of Main Street’s bustling stores
The aroma of fresh bread wafts tauntingly from the bakery
With my hands in pockets, finding not even loose change
Overcome with hunger and jealousy, should I resort to thievery?
Mind reeling, contemplating abating moral principals
Suddenly appear familiar brown eyes amid face so dear
The image of deceased wife, Spanish born eyes filled with tears
Speaking, "Abe, the Lord is gracious, walk until head is clear"
I follow the light in her warm eyes reflecting in glass windows
They lead me down the road to a park at the end of town
Dressed in ragged clothing, a man sits with a smile of peace
Breathing white puffs in frigid air, this gentle soul sees my frown
The message is plain, as my fears begin to clear
There is a greater depth in a soul of love well kept
The night is far spent; I kissed the hand of this gentle man
He smiled sweetly and said, "Lift up heavy head from dread"
I look up to see sun glistening on snow-laden pine boughs
It’s here, Christmas Day, and I’ve left my children alone all night
An ache in my heart compels me to race quickly back through town
Breathlessly, I reach my porch unprepared for a welcome sight
Hearing laughter within, I smell, yams, turkey and ham
I open my door, on the floor, presents piled high as well
Laughing with glee, sons kiss me, sparkle of brown eyes I see
Sparkling brown eyes, of Spanish descent, love is evident
“From where in the world did all this come,” I ask my sons
“Beautiful lady with Spanish brown eyes, stopped at our door
She said a strange thing, as on the floor our gifts were lain,
‘Tell Abe keep the faith; a mother's love is stronger than the grave.’
Her hugs and kisses, will be greatly missed! Who was she, Daddy?"
Thank you, Moses, for joining me and guiding me in this write. Merry Christmas, dear
friends!
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Miracle
Poem
Blackberry Winter
Down where the blackberries now bloom
Blackberry winter is near
Jack Frost comes tonight maybe doom
With you here there's no fear
'Oar's frost might kill the early plants
But in dreams they returned
Strong and better for fall's harvest
Orange pumpkins weren't doomed
Blackberry winter has entered
My life left me barren
Devoid of warmth feeling much strifed
Need again warmth of grandchildren
Holding little one close_ touch softness
Strange how one misses small
Things like tenderness, acceptableness
A kiss that comforts squall
Blackberry winter here to stay
Or miracle will come
For a miracle steadily pray
Baby on knee awesome
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Miracle
Poem
Apocalypse
The Earth,
the sky,
and the wonderful seas.
The birds,
the fleas,
and the perfect trees.
All come,
together,
to bring you to your knees.
No longer wonderful,
no longer perfect,
it all ends in a suicide squeeze.
And after the death,
of every last person,
nature selects its nominees.
To start all over,
with a new life,
ruling the world is now the
underseas.
And in this pitch black,
dark little world,
a human voice rings out in unease.
And the voice is heard by the now
imprisoned God,
who finds new strength,
to fulfill the child's pleas.
And the heavens come,
crashing down,
creating a magnificent breeze.
And the voice is discovered,
a hidden child,
who is rescued by the greatest of
escapees.
And a great battle is fought,
many lives are lost,
for the smallest of adoptees.
And the world is rescued,
normalcy restored,
with but a few extra guaranties.
These are promises,
made from the earth,
sure enough an official decree.
©Demand4poetry
21 February 2013
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Miracle
Poem
Twigs
Twigs
Flowers bloom
And flowers wilt.
Flowers blush
And flowers fade.
The eternity is only in me-
The twig that bears the flowers.
Sparrows are born
And sparrows die.
Sparrows fly
And brighten the sky.
That who nurtures sparrows is me-
A cozy make of a twig upon a twig.
The sun fades
And moon is born.
The twilight blurs
And moonlight spreads.
All the soothing moonlight beams are me-
A crisscross of unfathomed twigs.
Whether in its birth
Or in its death;
In the heart
Of its heart;
The entire beauty is none but one-
A design of mysterious twigs.
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Miracle
Poem
Forever Radiant
Radiant hymn's of morning sun
of Godly words O' how I run
to and fro
I traipse in search
in love I rest
still my spirit yearns
I will sing of the Lord's great love
forever...
forever..
forever...
I hear the call upon the hill
in shallow breath my heart lie still
O' trial O' fear
I march ahead
I call my king
on Zion's perch
I will sing of the Lord's great love
forever...
forever..
forever...
To proclaim everlasting the prize
onward and bestowed to rise
O' anointed one
I march ahead
in love I rest
each day of toil
I will sing of the Lord's great love
I will sing
forever..
forever...
forever...
O' how I bear in my heart
in completion just to be a part
with sinful flesh
my spirit cries
I call my King
to shun desire
I will sing of the Lord's great truth
I shall sing forever
forever...
forever...
forever...
Amen......
_______________________________
Contest-Larry Cohen's Masterpiece 'HALLELUJAH.'
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Miracle
Poem
Dementia
He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died,
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping,
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it,
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain,
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best,
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia
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Miracle
Poem
Becoming Mother Nature
What if Mother Nature
retired,
and I applied for her position?
How would I dare
to assume,
her un-ending cycles;
her secret duties?
Could I invoke such power,
or must I simply become her?
Spin myself
into a cocoon of natural faith.
Let the atoms of the cosmos
transform my light into spirit.
Would I then emerge,
complete with every force of mystery?
Awaken each day with pink mist,
and burn each evening sky
with crimson?
Command each leaf, each breath
and every symphony
of living?
Would I wear her gowns
of argent, lavender and aqua;
step lightly on mossy stones,
and dance upon silver meadows?
Grace the heavens
in cloud-white glinting wings
and in
the depths of darkest night
bear stars, filled
with the promise
of every beginning?
Suzanne Delaney
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Miracle
Poem
A Miracle To Call My Own
The greatest joy I’ve ever known
A miracle to call my own
So warm and soft and sweet and true
A blessing like I never knew
Worth every ounce of pain and fear
Each heartfelt doubt and wondering tear
Can I be what she deserves?
Are my virtues fit to serve?
Each question harder than the last
All faded now into the past
I gaze upon her perfect face
Full of beauty, peace and grace
A life that’s only just begun
Shining brighter than the sun
My heart has swelled beyond extreme
An ever loving living dream
Gratitude and hope abound
Heaven sought and Glory found
Strength and courage multiply
Seeing through Love’s own true eye
The greatest joy I’ve ever known
A miracle to call my own
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