In the wind the Holy Spirit
Has turned and twirled
He has orchestrated conception
To all the Mary's around the world
One Mary she stands alone
The mother of our Savior
Blessed among women
Still in need of saving
Another Mary stands alone
The first to the risen Christ
As we all need to witness to
The Resurrection and The Life
But we are all broken vessels
Our fractures need repair
His Way, His Truth, His Life (and kintsugi)
Will help us, to get us there
So not every Mary will birth a Messiah
Or will see Him with their eyes
But every Mary who is able
will be blessed to be with child
She feels like standing in a room full of water.
Chasing bigger dreams like her windows can`t open any wider.
Failer comes when her winds blow in that quarter.
When she`s afraid of her purpose,
Success becomes the tallest order.
So she can`t imagine why we`d wish each other the same slaughter.
The knife of doubt invades passion like it has no border,
Suppose it is worse when you are the only daughter.
Poem written on 19th September, 2025 for the contest "Let's Soar With This Poetry Contest" sponsored by Nette Onclaud.
...............................................
Let us romance tonight,
Our souls will bear love's fruits.
Nine months too long to sow,
Yet that's how life births life.
Its joy will outlive us
Tonight is ours to own.
So come, let love's rhythm play.
Summer swimmers began to depart.
Waves were no longer calm but rumbled with unease.
Kiosks and bar dismantled their wares.
It made me sick to see all gone.
Where was my Cynthia whom I loved so much?
Disappeared without a trace or a good-bye.
She had forsaken me without a reason.
I packed my things and went back home.
Seattle began its blasted drizzle.
Autumn is back with a vengeance.
Leaves changed their greenish hues
into brown, russet, or golden themes,
a kaleidoscope of prismatic colours.
Trees turn bare only slippery grass remained.
I wandered round the wet streets,
I wondered where my Cynthia were.
I entered my favourite coffee shop.
And there she was smiling impishly.
She served me a latte and gave me a kiss.
Leaves flutter slowly to the ground,
a carpet strewn all over the paths
that zigzag through the lonely gardens
or long forgotten forest trails,
whilst fragrant flowers wilt and wither
Yet it was the birth of love.
It woke, it stirred
egg broke, a bird
a warm puppy’s head is on my left heel
it’s a heavy head; he is a big puppy
he is cozy here, next to his mama
I got him at four months and ten days
wonder if he ever thinks about his birth mother?
he has the saddest brown eyes
so I think he does
"Home" is a word that echoes in my mind
A haunting melody, a cruel design
A place where shadows dance, where love's a lie
Where the heart beats with fear, and tears never dry
I've known the weight of hands that meant to hold
But crushed instead, leaving scars that never unfold
The silence screams, a cacophony of pain
A symphony of shattered dreams, a refrain
I've searched for solace in the darkest night
A fleeting peace that's lost in the morning light
The ghosts of memories haunt me still
Echoes of a love that turned to bitter pill
I yearn for a place where I can be free
Where the weight of expectations isn't crushing me
A place where I can breathe, where my soul can rest
But it's a mirage, a fleeting dream, a distant quest
In this wilderness of broken dreams and shattered hopes
I'll wander, lost, with heart that beats like a rope
I'll follow the shadows, the whispers in my ear
Until I find the silence, the stillness that's so dear
Perhaps in the darkness, I'll find my way
To a place where love isn't a four-letter word for pain
Where home isn't a prison, but a sanctuary true
Where I can be me, without fear, without shame, anew.
cry baby cry
you will from your first breath till you die
breath and leave behind
what was before will meet you on the other side
I am the perfect entity
And I inhabit your reality.
I live upon the wind
And find a home in your hearts.
I am the loving power;
The supreme epidemis of goodness.
I live in the actions of the many
And find extreme pain in the evil of others.
I am love incarnate
But cannot live in the drought of this world.
With every rotation of the Earth
Comes deeper suffering
And soon my existence will be nigh.
Without love being shared i will surely perish;
Disappear in the Dark Abyss,
Which shrouds the hearts and minds
Of the grand majority.
So let the love pour down from the sky
And let me be reborn.
Let my revival strengthen all resolve.
Let the Rain of my love
Shower and wash away the darkness.
Let all the Earth start anew;
Be reborn in kindness and goodness...
Before its too late!
Within her frame, a world is formed,
A heartbeat echoes, soft and warm.
Yet hope is stitched with threads of pain,
A sacred journey, not in vain.
She walks with feet too weary, sore,
Each step a trial, yet she bears more.
Restless nights with fleeting dreams,
Her body stretched at fragile seams.
A sudden craving grips her soul,
For sour fruits, or bitter bowl.
Strange hungers rise without a call,
She longs, she yearns, she wants it all.
Her back bends low, her breath runs thin,
The tide of labor swells within.
She grips the night, she bites the day,
As life prepares to carve its way.
And when the pain breaks like the sea,
Hope crowns her womb with victory.
Her cries give birth to sweetest song,
A mother’s strength, eternal, strong.
UTERO HOLDER OF LIFE
Reddish brown hue
Holder of life
So easy to view
Beautiful
Mother’s hold held, life spoil
She stands tall, fertile
Legs sequoia
Woman mother of man
Releasing’s life’s blood
Eggs embryos
Down her limbs
Nurturer, mother of world
Red river life flows through
The womb monthly flows
Utero holder of life
9/3/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
"from LIFE DISCERN Anthology "
Life is eternal
Destination unknown
Comes into physical form
Is dormant
Becomes active
Interacts with all of creation
Has an impact on evolution
Leaves physical form
Life is eternal
Destinations unknown
A possible reincarnation
Comes into physical form
Etc …
Infants begin
with closed fists—
white and red,
like the sun
about to rise.
They grow,
thumb resting in their mouth,
fingers curling around
the saree’s edge of the mother,
the sacred thread of the father—
building a small,
secure world.
A few months later,
with tiny movements,
gentle manners,
they reach for toys—
holding them close,
day and night,
whispering in their own language,
never alone.
A soft toy becomes a world.
Sometimes it is a spoon,
a cup,
a tumbler—
clutched for years
as a secret friend.
Sometimes a locket,
a ring,
a bracelet—
shining with unseen magic.
And now,
Doraemon walks beside them,
on TV,
on mobiles,
everywhere they go.
These bonds,
woven with innocence,
give strength,
bring laughter,
carry a quiet promise—
that joy will stay,
and life will be kind.
The revolutionary
The revolution germinated in my womb,
The tenderness and care never negotiated.
The external pressures never an obstacle,
The birth of the world’s most beautiful era bloomed.
Came the dawn of surprises after a storm,
The ship swayed hither to thither.
The fight and insurrection had already begun,
The world’s most beautiful and the strongest life was born.
The trunk was burned and she just witnessed,
Holding the hands of the needy and the swayed.
Detached yet focused, marching to the goal,
With slogans and spirits high she bore in her heart.
Sheltered was she, but the discontent seeped out,
In an urge to reach the pinnacle of the dream,
Reminders and warnings kept she to herself,
To be the spectator and observer of her own play.
Sandhya T.P.
Degenerate house filled with ancestry
one short hand stretches from statues to shame
pervading loose boundedness within the same
or toward less classical geometry
on this continuous interplay to show
how apotheosis may interchange the crow
this desire between rough designs, I try
to withstand its whirlwind and real rephaim
into flexible modules overclaim
terrain through the abundant baptistery
we have dispersed vital functions for coe
by distinctive architectural doe
we provide few clues from dictionary
this situation contracts markedly beldame
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