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Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.

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I give my life to the wind; to the fossils, the spirit, and the earth. I leave my thoughts to the termites that linger beneath the sod, to the falcon in the firmament, and to the animals that mate on our planet floor. To my mother: a word and a prayer. I sew my being to her cosmos. I am the planet, the weed, the bird, the antelope, and the babe begotten by Mother Nature. To nature: I speak from naked thoughts — with a primal mind and a void conscience. With bare feet I tread — without cause or reason. For loneliness is futile when corn sprout and birds wait for harvest. The harvest is within: like tubers within the earth, like the mammoth decayed within the grave, like my heart shelved within my ribs. I leave the rib, the garment, and my lance to the vultures and the sparrows of the Amazon. To the crowd: I commit a dirge. I take the hymn, the flute, and the lyric from dead men, from monsters, from skirmished souls and demigods raving in isolation. To the bird, I commit a song; the seer, a revelation; to the eagle, the eyes of an owl, the Iguana, talons, and to my unborn child, a crown. To this voice, I write an echo; the heavens, I weave wonder; the gods, I commune with contrite words. And to poetry, I leave my soul.

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I give my life to the wind; to the fossils, the spirit, and the earth. I leave my thoughts to the termites that linger beneath the sod, to the falcon in the firmament, and to the animals that mate on our planet floor. To my mother: a word and a prayer. I sew my being to her cosmos. I am the planet, the weed, the bird, the antelope, and the babe begotten by Mother Nature. To nature: I speak from naked thoughts — with a primal mind and a void conscience. With bare feet I tread — without cause or reason. For loneliness is futile when corn sprout and birds wait for harvest. The harvest is within: like tubers within the earth, like the mammoth decayed within the grave, like my heart shelved within my ribs. I leave the rib, the garment, and my lance to the vultures and the sparrows of the Amazon. To the crowd: I commit a dirge. I take the hymn, the flute, and the lyric from dead men, from monsters, from skirmished souls and demigods raving in isolation. To the bird, I commit a song; the seer, a revelation; to the eagle, the eyes of an owl, the Iguana, talons, and to my unborn child, a crown. To this voice, I write an echo; the heavens, I weave wonder; the gods, I commune with contrite words. And to poetry, I leave my soul.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things