Bird Spiritual Poems | Bird Poems About Spiritual

These Bird Spiritual poems are examples of Bird poems about Spiritual. These are the best examples of Bird Spiritual poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Acrostic |

Ecstasy


Enchanting melodies call me to the lush green forest, the
calls of soprano birds singing to my spirit, heart, soul, blissfully.
Sweet rhapsodies enthrall me to dwell within this intoxicating forest.
Trancelike and enraptured, I fall into the emerald and the lovely wildflowers,
and the forest has a magical spell on my beauty.  I dwell in this green dream.
Stillness, you will find with me in the lush, do not be afraid, just step into rapture.
You will find euphoria and peace, now take my hand and you will be transported . . . 

____________________________
June 28, 2016

Acrostic Free Verse


For the contest, Ecstasy
sponsor, John Hamilton

Third Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016


Details | Epic |

Eagle and the Dove


Gather around the sacred fire, my children
Let the embers' glow spark your curiosity
as we begin on this journey together;
to the time of how things once were,
to the time of how things came to be
In the beginning,
there was no war, only peace
There was no hate, only love
Harmony existed between all things,
it was the age when the eagle flew alongside the dove
Now the eagle lived high in the cliff of a great mountain,
and the dove lived in the lush valley below
And the seasons continued unabated,
from the summer's heat to the winter's snow
Then one day as the eagle sat, perched high atop his domain,
an evil thought entered his heart,
that only he alone over everything should reign
He felt because he was the most powerful bird,
his voice should always have the final word
So he gathered the other birds together,
to have them agree to make him their chief
The falcon and the hawk said they liked the idea
The raven and the owl said lets not be so hasty
The debate went on for days,
and the eagle grew restless with each passing hour
Until the stork delivered him a message,
during one spring early morning shower
The message said that the dove and the swan,
never came to a meeting, no not once
Thus, the eagle flew down to the edge of the pond,
and asked the swan about his absence
The swan said such matters concern him not,
let he who rule, let him rule just
As for the whereabouts of the dove, the swan said
he was in a cove by the big tree with the chestnuts
The eagle went and confronted the dove,
and accused him of stalling his coronation oblation
The dove replied with a gentle reproof,
saying to go down this wicked path will divide the earth into two nations
One will love war, and the other will love peace
One will hate killing, and the other will hate mercy
One will love freedom, and the other will love slavery
One will hate healing the pain, the other will hate causing hurt and misery
The eagle got angry at what the dove had to say,
and they no longer flew together after that day
So now you know, children, the story of the eagle and the dove
Which will you choose?
Will you choose to love hate,
or choose to live the peaceful way
Will you choose to hate love,
or choose to possess the spirit of a dove

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

A Child's Peace

Tell me of your peace. 
Let it tell your story now
Of trials and tribulations, a tale not of dreams
Weary from a journey of self-discovery
My child, know the comfort in your peace
You feel hope in this familiar place 
As it gently sloughs the pain away 
Tell me of your peace 
In which we all are blessed and free
Search throughout your soul sweet child
Peer not within your cluttered mind 
Look out to rest your tired eyes but do not let them see
Solace found strewn upon daily thoughts is fleeting at it's best
Lasting merely moments, in untouched souls a true peace 
Oh yes! You'll know when you arrive but only you will know 
The world will melt away as a candle left under the blazing sun
Away away, until you feel home again, an unguided familiar scene
An innocence once lost is restored, all sins suddenly forgiven
Soaking this in with relucant ease, 
Breathe it deep with a slow release
Take it in, delight in details you discover
Be calm here child, please have no fear, I am here 
You are safe in this place of yours, no hurt no tears
We share not the same peace, no no
Unique to each of us, yet stranger to none
Trust in more than what you see, know beauty is within reach
We share this unspoken bond of freedom from ourselves
Please young one, listen closer now 
I say, leave it all behind you love, it will only weigh you down
Cleanse yourself of careless words and careful lies 
I know you're weary, let go of all you carry
Don't be afraid, here you are burden free 
Trust in you, blessed one, it's easier than you believe
Sweet child, tell me now if you see
Peace resting deep within 
Waiting for you
For you to let it be

Copyright © Gabrielle Charisse | Year Posted 2013


Details | Dizain |

Rising Sun

Observe how the ants labor without a peep;
Note the fine artistry of the spider's web-spinning;
Who will wake the bear from his long winter sleep?
Stand in awe of the hummingbird flapping its wings;
Listen to the lovely melody the songbirds sing;
Watch the majestic hawks leave their nests and soar;
Bask in the rising sun's heat at the ocean shore.
An invitation into God's presence  
comes from the sun, the creatures, and much more.
All of His creation emits His essence.

Copyright © Kim Bond | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haibun |

FROM PURGATORY TO PARADISE

The fog has not yet lifted from the enclave. The candyfloss glow of the sun suspended above the horizon of the valley in the Jock of the Bushveld Concervancy* where I have made my new home reflects on the ghostly blue of the dam in front of my house. One of the nesting pair of fish eagles does a low flyby. The distinctive call of the fish eagle is synonymous to me with Africa, pulling on my heartstrings like no music can. A primordial longing fills my very soul. Banished to purgatory for the best part of my life, this paradise is my just reward in my golden years.

the fish eagle swoops – shadows cast by papyrus teem with silver carb
An African Jacana teeters with its long toes on the emerald green leave of the pink water lily. It pecks delicately at something at the edge of the flower, before taking flight; long legs dangling behind it like superfluous appendages – its sharp, ringing tone cleaving the morning silence.
Buddha’s Flower Sermon† encapsulates all – tropical winter
I am not alone: a blouapie (marmoset) with his distinctive cobalt blue and crimson genitals surveys my progress along the path to the jetty. Damp, golden leaves carpet the pathway, the pungent smell assailing my olfactory receptors, alerting me to the many unknown vegetation growing in abandon on the embankment – names of which I need to learn and applications I need to discover. Something scurries among the roots of the macadamia tree and plops into the water.
spring stirs in loins, driving out the long winter of dormant passions
[I have used the natural world around me at my new home in the Low Veld, South Africa, to describe the calming, spiritual effect of my surroundings in this haibun, after an emotionally traumatic year. The new surroundings are akin to Paradise, where I have yet to learn the names of the flora and fauna around me.] * http://www.nacsa.org.za/mpumalanga.html † https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flower_Sermon 16 July 2017 Edited 21 July 2017

Copyright © Suzette Richards | Year Posted 2017

Details | Tanka |

Fly Like An Eagle:

Gallant is thy Eagle Flying high towards the Sun Keen with deadly sight Viewing from heaven above Take flight my spirit with you. ~~~~~~~~ Together we'll fly Only landing to renew In a tall Oak tree No need to build an eyrie For the sky is our domain. ~~~~~~~~~ On land and in sky We are united as one Until our last breath A feathered quill in my hand Imagination runs wild.
28~June~2017

Copyright © White Wolf | Year Posted 2017

Details | Quatrain |

My Spirit Guide

Oh watchful Owl,
My spirit guide,
Help me to look
Deep inside.

Within my darkness
Give me might,
Patiently observe,
Wrong from right.

Guide me through
Our wondrous land,
In silence
Help me understand.

Give me your eyes
To seek what's real,
Attain true love,
That I can feel.

Help to rid me 
Of destructive ties,
Guide me to be
Forever wise.

Your ancient wisdom
Please impart,
Forever reside
Within my heart.

And when I'm ready,
Teach me to fly,
Spread my wings
Toward the sky.

12th June 2017

Copyright © Elizabeth Kinch | Year Posted 2017

Details | Classicism |

Two Feathers

Two Feathers If Thou allow the bird, its found feathers to tell of its serving its part in this earthy food chain, Thou will, too, allow its reward to be To sing again its sublime song - somewhere.

Copyright © Sunlite Wanter | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

Shuvihani Moon

Full moon nigh
Has an eerie feel
Dark clouds mystify
Pathway of the surreal.

Raindrops echo steadily
With each and every step
I continue on methodically
While shadows by me crept.

Full moon nigh
Damp fog rolling near
Heightened senses intensify
The woods become austere.

Through my hair, a gentle brush
Breeze or ghostly presence
Upon my skin, icy touch
Starlit path of luminescence.

Full moon nigh
Beckons my restless spirit
The crow loudly cries
"Fate awaits implicit!"

Ancient wisdom implore
Incantations and elixirs
The mind is an open door
For the spiritual path's fissure.

Full moon nigh
When the dreamworld is revealed
Great horned owl flies
Now is the time to heal.

Copyright © Darlene Smith | Year Posted 2017

Details | Verse |

Wildflowers

Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
 She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell     then came the ice, this went on for months.

The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
 I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.

They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves.  Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
 
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday. 
as they were called WEEDS ..
 The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.

However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .

The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
 Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
  She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB

Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse |

The sky lark

The skylark

The bird that climbs up in the sky
And looks as if it had angels wings
I ask myself why
How beautiful she sings
Is it gods way of telling us
The beauty he brings
And that's Just one of many things

Copyright © Michael Ward | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |

February Winds

Sunday morning
time for sabbath sacraments.

He steps into gusty wind,
some fat splatter sweeps of raindrops
fall across his porch roof
on down through roaring river valley,
forceful push, then ebb,
February wind storm with fat rain,
a wondrous primal pair
he adores.

Neighbor birds start their liturgical dance
and ritual songs of regeneration
without him.
Already flying quick floating dives
into drama time,
singing back to Brother Wind
howling on his way.

Calling, chanting cantors, conjoin
swelling sacred anti-gravity songs
co-arise blissful sweeping sound,
karmic atmosphere swirls time-rich
sacred rites across his house-bound skin.

Sound of incense sweeps down his river,
north to south with warmer hopes and economic intentions,
remind him time for political baptism.

She incants from the bathtub
in short gusts of warm blast enculturation,
joining his internal gospel choir,
chirps her oppositional descant
challenging and prophesying and occupying
in full-voiced roar of need
as want
right now,
and seldom bothers a please,
much less a thanks
for caring as best he can
to hear her appositional rhythms and patterns,
irritating flows of hard-blown breath
with attitude.

Storm and brew
birds cheer rage in her brain
shouting at co-arising gravity
to blow another way
within her exegetical universe,
her way,
the only way
she can imagine
to function in a reverse and upside down
political world of unheard powerlessness
when inside
she can only find her loud-voiced demands
to turn life around,
spin this slippery wind of Earth
to blow in her right liturgical way.

Baptism completes this wind drenched requiem
of full-life as anti-death survival
to cooperate this week's regenerate vocational intent
and ecopolitical practice.

She joins her dad
for one last look
through jaundiced eye
at drenching rain that could fly back
from whence it came
if only wiser timed to start this day.

Birds now pray their benedictions
quietly in wind-protected nests
while he listens to swollen postlude protest
against eco-agitating time,
uprooting old gnarled systems
decayed for newer holistic use
as compost fades into swaying trees
flown back to join upriver's grace of windblown time,
and forth to rejoin downstream's centerous roots
through winter purging Earth
decomposing dance.

He closes his door to time's external grace
to watch a smile warmly cross her chronic face
like a gust of refreshing wind
through a rainy karmic life.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |

Rabbits and Frogs

I believe
In dark matter
Nuns in robes
Making their habits
Deep with in the earth
Running rabbits
Singing of the end
Eat all you can
Matter it will not
Expansion till fully bloated
There will be a resurrection
We all shall become frogs
Making quantum leaps
Until nothing matters
The big bang
Warped inside my mind
I believe
In rabbits and frogs

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |

This World of Dew

I see a green tree. It is all I want.
A dry rocky mountain and a hawk
satisfy. To die spiritually in
the hot sun and the body go on
climbing. To take the paths among
the rocks and mahogany bush.
To feed on rock lichen and blue
sky. To not need a house.

To leave my mind in the foothills.
To climb everything but blind. In
the deer shade of the cool aspens.
Forgotten by the work force and the shrew.
Bored as a badger disturbed at
its stream. Free singing as the stream
cutting the gorge. Cool as a hummingbird
in its wet spray. Caterpillar fur.

I stay in the mountains unknown.
The roof soot of the city calls me back.
The museum women shaking their bodies
at the stuffed tigers. The meditating
curators and entrepreneurs. Burro.

                  *                  *                  *

Old Basho, early Spring, took fond leave of his friends,
closed his small house at edge of village,
and with one peasant companion climbed the long narrow road to
      the North.

Blessed morning!
      the day I left life behind
            but not this world of dew.





Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015

Details | Questionku |

Songs of a Setting Sun

dusk’s curtain ends
a bird’s melody
what of your legacy

tick tock amends
near the sum of days
are you still in old ways

for what transcends
your last setting sun
have you left it undone

--------------------------------------------------------
Contest: Questionku Two
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
10.20.15

Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Beak of Night

BEAK OF NIGHT

Following the glow in every star in my eyes
I lay here in the frenzy grass with swimming thoughts
Escapading~
Thunder hides in the still of the night
Doves fly high in an epic way
Swans glide in the mist of night
Everest tears, run down my cheeks 
Speechless~
 ------- I left you-------------------

The wind carries the sorrow from a chime, 
A touch with aromatic perfume, that turns out control
My shadows peeks around the warmth of a Phoenix mirage
My head is losing balance to a negative magnetic seal
Secretiveness ~

Sleepwalking with the tendency to crawl
My feelings stray as I lay on this frenzy grass of snow
Years that come and years that go
Things In life I will never know
I pass the morning till the night popsicles away
A blanket of snow to cover my dream
Wings taking flight near the river stream
Mockingbirds protecting their branch
In every scream!
Silence~
---------------- Far Away-------------

Leaves fall on me like an endless Odyssey Romance
I'm a lonely sparrow with an enigmatic look
A Gothic Dance, under the stars
Prancing under the devil's claw
I hold myself
Side to side
I lose myself to an ironic form.
Zero is what I can't perceive. 
Muteness~

With and without a beak
The mystique of my lips
Is all billiard-up
My mouth sewn shut
Shut up~
--------------No Words, Indeed------

EPIC
By; p.d.

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011

Details | ABC |

Grey Bird

On that cloudy weekend in June 
I hear a soft and graceful tune 
from the grey bird on the tree 
branch 
Singing sweet lullabies felt 
blessed in the moment 
My body tingles of joy at sight 
Gazing out through 
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon 
Heart filled with emotion came 
over me 
Grey bird stood playing its tune 
for awhile and on the wings of 
letting go
Then as the rain fell from the 
sky the grey bird flew away 
gracefully 
I blew a kiss to the clouds and 
utterd these simple words of I 
Love You father ( who's now in 
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear 
that grey bird sing again once 
more for me 
Farewell, love your son

Poem contest for Debbie -referential

Copyright © Brian Otoole | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

The Tiger and The Peacock


" The Tiger and The Peacock ... "

(From The Solomon Studies Series)
(Eccl. 3: 11 / Prov. 6: 6 / Matt. 6: 26, 28, 29)




The Tiger and The Peacock
Both, Have Beautiful Eyes

The Tiger and The Peacock
Both, Are A Wildlife Prize

The Tiger and The Peacock
Both, Walk In Graceful,, Stately Strides

The Tiger and The Peacock
Both, Are  Lovely, Lustrous Designs

The Tiger and The Peacock
Both, Are The Artwork of Someone Wise

Tho' One Be A Bird and One Feline
Both - Are The Amazing, Handiwork of JAH's


      Written & Copyrighted ©:  1/4/2014
               by:  MoonBee  Canady



Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku |

Bird Song

The birds sing a song

On a tree that is very high

Music fill the air

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic Verse |

The Silent Lamb

The silent bell rings in the night,
Calling the devils to kneel to the light,
What once was, becomes no more,
As the light breaks through the open door.

What you think and what you feel,
What you saw and thought was real,
Is now only dust on the road,
The desolate remains of your ancient abode.

The new light is rising on the hill,
The new song is singing down in the well,
The new souls are dreaming of your face,
The new hearts are beating at you pace.

The old ideas and reasons you gave,
Are buried in the tomb and in the grave,
The rotting bone and flesh are gone,
In the morning dew, in the morning sun.

The light shines through the open door,
Casts no shadow on the old dirty floor,
The ancient laws of reason and might,
Crumble to dust in the morning light.

What once was real and certain as rock,
Is now the dream the baby forgot,
The new light coming to wake you my love,
The silent lamb and the flying dove.

more of my poems at :
http://labyrinthoflies.com

Copyright © ness tillson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

THE CHANGING OF THE SEASONS

THE CHANGING OF THE SEASONS
When summer ends, autumn begins. The leaves fall from the trees. Such a beautiful sight and done so spiritually. Magical is the change of the seasons into the New Year. I saw a red bird today and enjoyed her chirping. Gathering food, she was on my window sill. Pillared to be quite successful, her tiny wings went a flight. The red beak is all that was seen as she entered the sky. Absolutely beautiful is when the leaves fall from the trees. Summer has ended with autumn’s inception. I can feel the breeze. ________________________________________| PENNED ON AUGUST 30, 2014!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Let me go

              Let me go
 show me out the door with kind words
  I want you to Love me ..
  not punish by Force
 My Prison, my warden 

                 Let me go
          My choice to be Free
      Free of suppression,  of my own creativity
       let me decide for myself
               my destiny 

                Let me go
           let go of me gracefully
     I belong to myself , children and God
       Let me go , let go of me 
                 I am free 
            to choose to love and give
                 I am Free 
          from what burdens me 
                now I am Free
            

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

The Birdie

That birdie was singing a beautiful song
I pretended it was for me
The notes played like a musical flute
Its melody a symphony

I looked around that little bird
Sitting in an evergreen tree
What could make it sing like that?
Was it really singing for me?

Manna fell from heaven
As breadcrumbs found their way
And the birdie sang even louder
It had something it wanted to say

To live in the moment
And appreciate this gift
I look at the birdie
And my soul it does lift

For even heaven knows the birdie
Its every need and care
It worries not for tomorrow
It appreciates the breeze - the air

I want to be the birdie
Singing a beautiful song
Let me remember this moment
May it live ever long

Copyright © Grace Cyrus | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird


" The Butterfly and The Hummingbird ... "

(From The Solomon Studies Series)
(Eccl. 3: 11 / Prov. 6: 6 / Matt. 6: 26, 28, 29)



The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, Are So Beautiful Among The Flowers

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, Can Mesmerize Me For Hours

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, When Sighted - Opens Observation Towers

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, Seem To Climb Upon Air Ladders

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both,  Have Their Own Unique, Exquisite Patterns

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, Seem To Remind Us of What Really Matters

Tho' One's Ballet Is Languid-Soft 
and One Propels The Wind In Place Aloft

One Delights In Dances  / As One - Sweet Nectar Devours
Still, Both Are Delicate and Refreshing As Mist Showers

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, Have Made Our Flowerbeds, Their Bowers

The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, A Sensation-Creation - Not Ours

Because The Butterfly and The Hummingbird
Both, Came From Almighty GOD's (Let There Be Light) Powers!


       Written & Copyrighted ©:  1/4/2014
                by:  MoonBee  Canady





Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Thunder Being Great Protector

Thunder Being.... Great Protector

Thunder Being , ancient caretaker;
Create your storms , to serve our maker.
Spread your mighty wings across;
A troubled world of traditions lost.

Let dark clouds gather without hesitance;
So they may cover your very presence.
May lightning strike and thunder clap;
So none will hear your great wings flap.

In omnience , in the shadow of night;
Hover underneath the moon's light.
Watch over us with your keen eyes;
Avenge the wrongs , hear our cries.

And upon the light of a new day;
Just before you fly away.
As the sun arises in a sky of blue;
Please accept our offerings of gratitude.

Darlene Doll Smith ~ Cherokee

Copyright © Darlene Smith | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku |

Multispecies Pride

A strutting peacock
Father watching her first steps
Universal pride

Copyright © Willow Lawrence | Year Posted 2014

Details | Tanka |

The Flute

the flute
of dying memories
I welcome
the birdsong in the distance
now only partially heard

Copyright © Thomas Martin | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Raven and The Dove


Swinging in the pavane of love
Doves doze where ravens nest
And bells toll for sick and poor
For drifters and muggers
Jokers and jugglers
And ones who spot a dirty floor
They fly away eventually
Rejoice by chance they may
Maybe they’ll remember
When wings tomorrow fray
Oh, the bells sing for all that is
And all that isn't too
Oh, eternal bells ring for me
Chime through cracks in truth
Oh, when bells toll I never hide
From battery buzz above
Oh, bells ring for me and you
The raven and the dove

Copyright © Nicholas Rush | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Flight of the Ptarmigan

Flight of the Ptarmigan
By Reg Rhodes



The Ptarmigan emerges from his snow nest; and takes flight. 
It's wings quietly fluttering; carrying him into the silent night.

He carries his message of inner peace on his angelic wings; shrouded in white. 
Illuminated by the full moon; his flying form shines bright.

Only those who can relate to his plight;
will observe this awe inspiring sight. 

I watched him appear from deep within the snow;
and followed the flight of the Ptarmigan;  pondering where he would go.                                                                                                                           

Far, far from his mountain home he flew.
Only to seek answers to the questions that he already knew. 

He couldn't adapt to the warm weather, noise or people; like the flatland brown Grouse.
Upon his return, he discovered that another white winged bird had come and stolen his snow covered house. 

He took flight once more, to a different side of the mountain;  to build a new and better high elevation nest. 
Once again, comfortable in his familiar surroundings; the Ptarmigan was rewarded with a much needed rest.  

The flight of the ptarmigan ended where it began; 
and he returned back to his high alpine home, once again.

Where God intended him to be. 
Where he can once again live happy, and be free.
 
Oh, beautiful ptarmigan; take me away.
And show me yet another wonderful day;
but, please never let me forget to seek Gods guidance whenever I pray.

Thankfully, my trip has ended; right where it began.
Like the Ptarmigan; I have returned home once again. 
.
I'm back up in the mountains; where God intended for me to be. 
Home; where my soul is complete, and once again free. 



















Copyright © Reg Rhodes | Year Posted 2014

Details | Tanka |

Spiritual Truth

hold 
your mouths open nestlings
for your parents to feed you
dare I ever close my own
to any food I need

Copyright © Thomas Martin | Year Posted 2016