Nature Atheist Poems | Examples
These Nature Atheist poems are examples of Atheist poems about Nature. These are the best examples of Atheist Nature poems written by international poets.
That feelings of mind and soul
That shining feel before happenings...
Measures everything like measuring scale..
As human feelings can hurt or make happy
Nature depending on that guy;
Still can't confirmed
That real feelings of one...
Necessity has come to know that
How are feelings made
Feelings like happy,sad, emotion, angry, attitude,thinkable, inert and overall....
Different feelings, always exists like that
But must be in one's inner heart..
Before happenings feelings the one
To show the path how to react..
Object is same but feels on that is always divergent and that's necessary too...
Otherwise been the same everything
Like faces differ, so the inner feel must too be--------
Perfect feeling make perfect era
Consuming everything in right mood..
So, feeling less means no emotion
That extra gift from God for everybody,
Make some personally weak or strong
That feel after getting new info.
Feelings the owner of own.
Bhayalina Baishya
It is Christmas in a pine grove
Holding vigil in a foxhole
Not an atheist to be found
As artillery shakes the ground
The pines adorned with crystal flecks
And pinecones as ornaments
A cardinal in all its red
Sits atop Tannenbaum's crest
A piece of fruitcake would taste great
(The regifted and given treat)
Sgt. Kilmer's words to this novice
(As I take in this conus coppice)
"Poems are made by fools like me
But only God can make a tree"
A semblance of a Gospel decree
And the "evergreen" nature of the greenery
With these Christmas trees, alone
I open my "C-rats" in my foxhole
Then pen a letter home from Bastogne
In shadow's tomb—
A dim, aimless flicker...
Void's grip, timeless
claims all.
Fantomsound: life's song is just a cognition in the null.
Rain, pain—
Stardust, dust, flesh
patternless on oblivions loom.
Decay's dance a molderwaltz,
Fingers grasp at phantoms
no hope
Peace in the abyss's open arms. Not…
Unveiled—darkness, despair's shroud
enigma's veil.
Hearts, no soul, toll; unpaid.
Dreams surrendered.
Woe's tale on wastesphere's icy breath.
Void's sigh,
Sun bleeds on the endless fight.
Souls adrift, yearning
churning, burning
Accept, the void's silent
starlit song mute.
From nothing, is nothing, in nothing /
to nothing, for nothing
Fade to black...
My body tells the story of four billion years of living, of thriving, of flourishing. Each chapter a tale of surviving long enough to create another generation—replicas nearly the same, save a random change, a chance. The risk taken was a risk rewarded. Another day, another generation to watch the sun rise. Every body tells this intertwining story, written as every branch of every vein, tree, and river. Four billion years.
The oldest story told.
A mighty monarch had a dream,
the kind that makes men stir and scream.
In mid-earth grew a large, strong tree,
It was so tall that all could see.
A holy one gave the decree,
to cut down and destroy the tree,
but leave the large stump in the ground,
with bronze and iron fetters bound.
The mighty monarch was the tree,
to whom his subjects bowed the knee.
His Majesty was very great,
But his arrogance sealed his fate.
God had decreed he’d lose his throne,
and live in nature all alone.
His hair like one unkempt will grow,
and nails protrude like those of a crow.
A chastened monarch he would be,
until his folly, he would see.
Like a man who has lost his mind,
he will live like the beastly kind.
The purpose of the harsh decree
was that all on earth may agree,
that God rules the affairs of men,
and decides where men rule, and when.
At the end of his harsh ordeal
the chastened king proclaimed with zeal,
the Most High God exists for real,
Let all on earth before him kneel.
Listen you haughty men and proud,
Who mock this God with voices loud.
One day you too will face His wrath,
because you chose the foolish path.
The sky is looking to contemplate the rainy drops.
It is considering the theory of becoming new
by breaking an old one.
I doubt, though, if it is sure for all or if it may be.
Deviations in nature are caressing the concept of transformation.
Look at it in a beautiful way, like from a caterpillar
to a butterfly, mandatory is the definition of changes.
God or Science, the skeptics say,
Science is God, no need to pray.
Through it, we can all knowledge gain,
No need for God’s help to explain.
This fallacy of idle minds
creates a false dichotomy.
Without God’s ken science is blind,
yields speculations of all kinds.
A humble man, with brilliant mind
A scientist and world-renowned.
Yet every day he knelt and prayed,
God, “please reveal secrets to me.”
His lab he nicknamed God’s workshop
For this was where he felt Him near.
Revealing uses hundreds fold,
Of nuts that served as food for pigs.
He had a chance to become rich
By patenting his inventions.
He chose instead to open source
That all who wish could benefit.
Yet not alone among his peers
Of scientists, who took believed,
In God the divine creator,
Of Nature, their laboratory.
People have a spirit-shaped need within
Regardless of culture, faith tradition
Atheists et al are as gifted, giving, gregarious
You & families be blessed by The Universe
Every where without religion, good is done
Relationship, not religion, will heal all around
NOTE: Prayer can be communing with Earth (Mother Nature), the Universe, or People of integrity, even if dead today. We are leaving the heavy, weighty Earth plane, & interacting - in Lincoln's words - with the better angels of our nature. Shalom shalom, peace, Eeirene
"Show me god" the non-believer shouted
this male Middle-Eastern Caucasian king
sitting on a cloudy throne who doubted
his creation and punishes them when
he made me this way it was men who penned
religious texts from imagination
dogmatic laws or suffer damnation
clerical hierarchy power hungry
men reciting inane narration
I replied to the atheist bluntly:
metaphors exist in all world writing
seers understand science of their epochs
the universe is something from something
tell me what did the process develop
design is all nature in a toolbox
energy, frequency, vibration lives
in all matter, in all space, and it drives
me to breath, eat, drink, sustain my lifetime
the purpose of life is not to survive
but harness God inside and out and thrive
No place on earth is more changeable than the seasonal forest
Undergoing radical transformations from the world above
Year after after year
To spend a day here is nature’s way of offering a spa
A bathe in nature
No place under the constellations echoes such beauty
Denying this blessing is like hosting the roland garros amongst the stars,
My fathers father braved these woods
These vines have been mingling in my veins before my chain and slave trade days
I am an original Blackman
Descended from the soil and birthed from the womb of an African deity
Four hundred rotations ago,my life was worth less than ngwe and kwacha
Or perhaps ivory and copper.
I was taken by ship,auctioned and campused through the door of no return
To Babylon I was cast
Told to believe without questioning their religion,
They called it faith
And in that maze of what is and what could not be, Our fathers tree’s had lost their roots
They now tell us to believe without questioning
And they call it obedience,
But in my dreams I have seen the clouds crushing and the world on fire,
I have pierced my probing eyes through the veil of anonymity,
Ethiopia is the promised land. Not Jerusalem.
Empty Orchestra
As the wind beneath the branch breaks,
There is a tree and its leaves shake.
Night wolves howl at the setting moon
And life is left to become shattered.
Crystal clear to see the scars they left.
Holding onto life with my last breath.
Always the end it arrives too soon,
Like nothing else even mattered.
They said today would be a good day.
I used to feel, to feel that way,
But in the end there is nothing new;
You stumble and you stagger.
Gripped by fear as the end is night,
Reaching out for the man in the sky.
Praying for a touch of light,
But in the end all we have is an empty orchestra.
(C)2021 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Be positive
Ignor negative thoughts and be positive
Be cheerful and be sensitive
Always keep in mind one thing
Life is what whatever we sing
We know what nature preserve
One who fought must always serve
Clouds of sorrow will easily disappear
Smile on face when appear
After dark night comes fruitful day
It's a lesson of life must go this way
holy peeping tom
all seeing guy in the sky
ogling mother earth
***
Come Armageddon, only she will survive,
Crawl through destruction, though limbless, alive.
Civilization now crumbling to dust,
Detritus that slices, so deeply unjust,
treacherous terrain bears the anger and hate
Of society's true nature the dead did create.
And on her arrival no pain does she feel,
Immune to her wounds, for the flesh ones will heal,
But full is her heart of despair without end.
She heaves herself upright her message to send
And yells down the crater to whom she knows not,
"Come on, mother er is that all you've got?"
Spirituality is the
Feeling of being lost
In immense pleasure of moment.
A moment which exist
Not one
Which was gone
Not one
Which will come .
Just a way to feel
Our integrated togetherness
With existence
Of universe.
A deep breath
Promoting a fresh
Breeze of scent
Of happiness and satisfaction
In every cell of body.
Just loosing all
Ambition and expectations
Being swayed away
In the feeling
Of irrevocably divine.
Being drenched in
The shower of blessing
Of ultimate energy
Which drives whole existence
Of mankind and world.
Being in this
Transform our soul
In ultimate energy with
Sanctity of Nature.