Best Compassion Poems
Be the star that brightens someone’s dark sky,
Be the light that illuminates a gloomy night,
Be the flame of compassion to life gone awry,
Even if you don’t think your candle is bright.
Despair not in a world gripped in jaws of woe
For beyond hills of grief dwells halo of hope,
Be the spring that rises through wintry throe,
Even when struggling in laments hard to cope.
Be the forest that grows through ashes of fire,
Be the dream that assuages angst of nightmare,
Be the angel of goodwill when times are dire,
Even when fate, callously, ignores your prayer.
Be not pain of misery, be not voice of dismay,
From goals of life revered, you must not stray,
Wish not for anyone, horizons shrouded gray,
Even while a storm drenches your sunny day.
Remembering when
Perched high above on rocky crags
Cliffs weathered by times handprints
I saw far and wide to distant shores
Tendrils of desire radiating outwards
Riding the briny mist
Being carried by the breath of the ocean, my constant companion
Hearing the distant voices, the silent tears
The bursts of passion ~ love and loss
I ride the wings of hope and change
Towards the beckoning landscape of
Creation, mystery, and nuance
A vibration fills the air
The quiet chanting of our ancient brothers and sisters
Their words floating in effervescent bubbles
Tinged with melodies so clear
We are one ~ We are here
Let us bathe you in light
Let us heal your wounds
Let us give you hope
We are all mirrors of one another
We share one breath
We are connected like the mycelium under the ground
Our journey is peaceful
Come to us with your pain, your heartache,
Your fear and your loss
We are here to listen
Our ears and hearts are open
You have come to a safe sanctuary to reveal your secrets
Your darkness, your desires, and your bliss
Without judgement
This is a time of renewal
Tiny green hummingbird lays lifeless on the ground
Surrounded by new life
Glittering musical notes sound as
Pink butterflies gather
Gentle wind of wings bringing change
Warm rain falls as we make our way
Through the kaleidoscopes of turquoise, teal, lime and chartreuse
Sunlight reflections
Moss, furry seedlings, and ferns
Intertwine dancing in the shafts of light
A steady illuminated procession
Sweat running down our bodies
We are a train of humanity pushing forward
Through the dense moist jungle
Coming upon a clearing to witness
The newborn baby girl wrapped in velvet greenery
A majestic glowing beacon shining her light
On all of us
Howling
The chatter of monkeys as they scramble down limbs to join us
We feel her heartbeat
We meld into one another seamlessly
Swaying gently in unison
To honor, rejoice and celebrate
Receiving the gift of what it is to be human
Slowly the child is lifted into the air
Aloft on fingertips of joy
The Circle of Life begins
And we return to the simple act
Of loving and giving to one another
Into eternity
Parallel
Evening arrived scattering snowflakes,
I sought a solitary
Path
Through winter’s barren woods
Made magical this night
With glittering snow
Gracing every empty branch
Each twig
In the muffled silence of a downy dusk
And, thinking that I walked
Enfolded in the snowy twilight,
Only with myself,
I overlooked the footprints
Slowly walking
Side by side
With my own –
Unnoticed in the rhapsody
Of the winter’s stormy
Forest celebration
Until
The path uncurled around a curve
Revealing in the gathering dusk
Another traveler,
Familiar to my heart,
Plodding
Through the windblown drifts
Bent,
Stooping beneath a heavy burden
Slipping side to side
With every step
Until the baggage
Pulled
The bearer to the snowbound path –
A solitary figure
Captured in the jealous grip of gravity -
And so I left my reveries,
My path,
Crossing through the unmarked snow,
The snowy wall,
Between us
To lift the burden
Of my companion in the twilight
To follow in the footsteps –
In silence -
And
Knowing
I could not lead upon this path,
Nor walk within the chambers of another heart,
But only trace the tracks
Outlining the journey of my friend
In this brief moment of time and stars
Beneath a darkening sky
Till we would walk in parallel
Again.
My mind is a puzzle of cryptic metaphors.
whilst searching for my sanity,
I've become my own worst enemy.
In this cauldron of despair,
time is like sand in my hand -
an oxymoron poetic
paradox of cruel compassion.
Sadistic green eyes bring my demise,
as my sighs are captured by the wind,
slowly morphed into madness and travesty.
I sit alone on the throne of midnight illusions,
cursed by dark imaginations
lingering like mouldy air,
as vivid flashing images
engrave inkstained imprints.
Dripping lament from a
palette of black and white,
colouring in the emptiness of my sensitive soul.
In echoing whispers of weeping violins,
whimsical vibratos from wooden wind-chimes,
steadily orchestrate instrumental sonatas,
ringing through my strained metallic heart,
whilst I try to strum strangled strings,
harmonizing an inconsistent symphony of a tragedy.
Fate has me stranded within a monotonous loop of uncertainties,
for when twilight’s last breath piercingly eclipsed over
lyrical edges of my insomniac shadow,
it awoke restless beasts of nocturnal nights -
in nightmares I wondered does no one hear my screams?
i can see dazzling dusts of black diamonds,
drizzle manuscripts of maniac irony
translating dialects hidden behind unshed tears
that gleam like shooting stars,
as i sing mystical moonbeams,
sewn with silver sequins of euphonious memories on refrain,
chorused from nameless tunes of timeless tomorrows,
as the magic of the maestro,
residing in the highest bridge of sanguine skies,
guides these electric fears, trapped between
synchronized layers of my unsettled skin.
I'm tired from intangible tears in the mirror,
slowly sinking me in swirls of sorrow,
like a bruised creature
seeking shelter in a silk cocoon,
so this aurora's smile is no longer a masquerade.
I hunger for rays of sunlight to paint my skin
in a plethora of pastels,
so this golden bronze queen,
can once again glitter
in a crown of illuminating heartbeats.
What words did you use to make someone smile?
Did you reach out to change a stranger’s day?
The smallest gesture makes it all worthwhile,
an act of kindness soothes tired tears away.
Compassion's inborn into humankind.
You can be a tower that shelters pain.
Empathy helps a confused state of mind.
Wipes away doubts, so sadness won't remain.
When bullies mock those seen as different,
it leads to anguish and feeling broken.
Educate those who's heart's are ignorant.
I care I search for those left forsaken.
When souls fall give them the power to rise.
Paint a masterpiece with strokes that are wise.
dust-wearing-wind carries a feeble cry in its palm,
settles it near ears that can no longer hear.
Cries arise from hollows of your hungry face,
a pulpit of high cheeks bones— in sharp relief
to sunken skin-scape sallow and paper thin—
a preacher on the harrows of hunger.
Vulture keeps a still, silent vigil,
a patient witness to your starvation,
comrade and adversary
in a fight for your last breath and beat.
Your loyal companion, a symbol of death
where drones rain with flames on tents of refugees
and sky splitting missiles make shrapnel of the sun,
where dragon fire artillery shoots the moon
and shreds stars till they fate-fall
like the last nightjars from nocturne skies.
Dear child of war,
alone with nothing in your belly but a stone,
rib bones a famine cage,
thoracic fingers squeeze your soul.
Your heart a hostage,
flutters like a lost moth against your sternum.
I long to hold you and feed you
honey made from a million wild flowers
uncrushed beneath metal plates of tank treads.
I yearn to bathe you of collapsed concrete dust
cleanse you of your mother’s blood, her
rattle-boned, battle-owned, maternal body wrapped
over yours as they fed her Kalashnikov lead.
My faraway ache for your plight pales
against your tiny body’s black-rose-throes,
a pawn to thorns of soldiers
grown on rocket-torn-boot-worn streets.
War-zone fig trees bear no fruit,
hibiscus buds die as hornets knit nests into shrubs,
tomorrow but a diseased wheat field laid to waste.
Dear child of war,
deliverance will come when pall-bearer winds
carry your cries elsewhere…
Is not a line
nor a word
nor a flower
nor religious folly
Is besma
a gift from the heavens
a heart that touches a heart
a kindness that makes strangers
smile
I have compassion, at least that’s what I try to tell my children.
I can’t even find it within me to kill a mosquito anymore,
and I hate those little bloodsucking mosquitoes, but the sound
the zapper makes when a little unsuspecting mosquito flies
into that little purple light and I hear the crackling sound and spark,
Zzzzzzpt, all I can think about is the pain inflicted before it’s death,
and I remember my husband thinking how helpful he was being
by buying that zapper and showing me how well it worked.
I smiled, and acted appreciative, but after he died I threw it away.
I guess the heart grows more tender as we age and we reflect more
on life and death and how every creature God made has its right to live.
Yes, I do have compassion, yet my children have more than I do
and that is a great thing because that means I have taught them well.
5-23-22
Divine Intervention Poetry Contest~N/A~
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Sent from my iPad
love words
philanthropic sweethearts
adoration fascination cherish affectionate
integrity beloved affinity honesty
warm benevolent honey
dear agape gaze
God luv zeal
bless
amor
ardor
warmth
fondness
boyfriend
soulmates
caring giving
hugs married
fond of favorite
passion devotion
romantic beautiful
affinity dearest trust
amoureux faithfulness
lovingkindness beautiful
husband and wife intimacy
lover unconditional oneness
girlfriend sentiments happiness
eros Phileo affinity togetherness
adore fondness blessings intimacy
valentine faith sacrifice amour honor
written 22 Aug 2020
The sparkle of charity is alive and well
It’s the grounds for cohesion and solidarity
Making spiritual gardeners of us all
Goodwill marries kindness
Sharing bounty with open heart
And helping hand inspired by faith
Benevolence born of compassion
And hope aimed to appease
Brethren down on their luck
A heart that’s pure gives without asking
Who is sincere who is deserving
Or who is out there to deceive
Charity is best when unbound
Spontaneous and genuine
When it leaves us humbled
Wanting to contribute
To a world of philanthropy
After all who are we to judge
AP: 2nd place 2020
Submitted on October 13, 2019 for contest 1ST CORINTHIANS 13:13 INSPIRATION sponsored by REGINA RIDDLE - RANKED 2ND
Snowing tonight….incandescent, luminescent,
Silvery snow, whispering divine dreams..
Air misty, breeze calm, serene! Do I see the
Brilliant Star, which directed the wise men
To a stable on an evening of starry twilight ...
When the three wise magi spotted the
Brightest star in the east, their surprise,
And their exhilaration knew no bounds!
Our Lord has come to us, the star beckons,
We must follow the glowing light and find our Saviour!
Sights through my window-panes are blurred!
Rooftops getting blanketed with white
Shimmering laces! treetops beautifully
Embellished with silver ornaments,
Grasses caressed by softest drizzle of snow!
This is the night, holy night for the universe
When we welcome our Lord to illuminate
Our life! They found Him in the manger,
Divine baby and Holy Mother they prayed to,
Most precious gifts were showered on Him!
We gaze with wonder at glittering stars above,
On this magnificent Christmas Day, in every
Glistening snowflake I behold Christmas magic -
An aura of love and compassion for the needy
Envelop the world with spiritual grace and harmony!
I chance upon her
in the far reaches of the backyard,
a place I never go. There she trembles.
A tiny tiger, whose newborn eyes blur the world,
secreted in mother-scented-shadows
below blackthorn shrubs.
Faint mews draw me closer.
The power of her vulnerability
fills my veins with a ripple rising,
brimming me with a nectar needed,
like a dry stream bed restored by remedy rains.
How helpless she is with new eyes open.
Her eyes like skylights — clear
and filled with new-wild-blue innocence.
Neglected yet beautiful, I sense in her
the familiar phenomenon of the impulse to pulse.
Her outsized feistiness belying
such a petite package of plea and need
with teeny needle claws and barely a wisp of a hiss
...and I recall when I felt the fear
of being small and voiceless in a choiceless world.
Born a feral kitten, her mother likely lost
to speed-wheels of a car or snap-jaws of coyotes,
whose throats float steaming howls above black
saw-toothed pines to haunt the long night moon
...and I wonder, if she wonders,
if the sweet-milk-purrs with soft belly fur
will ever return to snuggle her.
She’s been cold and alone for far too long.
So I gather her in the hug of my hands
warming her as I draw her in and curl
my chest around her littleness.
A shield formed against her lone-ness.
...and I, a long-ago-child abandoned,
a child whose silent cries heard only by stoic walls,
reclaims a voice that helps me make a choice
not to let Nature decide how birth and fate collide.
So I sit with her, swaddle her, love her.
Nourish her with eye-dropper milk where
hearth embers still glow after the fire,
to heal the orphan and raise the phoenix within.
Awake compassion!
Your destiny's call, do not disregard,
obey!
Scorch the frantic passions,
Smash the rocks of excess,
And bar the streams of hate!
Awake compassion!
Your luminous face, do not turn
away!
Open the gates of charity,
Trace the path of happiness,
And light mercy's holiest flame!
Awake compassion!
Your noblest hour has come,
Humanity's decree to proclaim!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
14 July 2022
* I am humbled by your comments and your support and for that reason
I would like to share with you the POTD honor bestowed upon me. God bless
you all.
It is human nature to hate him whom you have injured. ~Tacitus
as children
we looked past the world’s artificial trappings
the ravelment of doctrines
and the glaring capitalistic displays
the only criteria was that we’re friends
growing up
the world we inhabited
shrank as we embraced
the rules of others
to fit in
adulthood
meant that we
overrode innate compassion for others
paramount concern
belonging to the right group
often at the expense of many others
leaving a particular religious group
would lead to shunning
even death
lost in this Troxler effect
we have ultimately lost the ability to discern human value
we’re set in our ways
our value compass
eventually deliquesced as it decomposed
like a corpse
how did we become so jaundiced in our outlook
it is obvious
we hate the ones we have wronged
forgiving ourselves is only path to redemption
14 June 2021
He’s bigger than the mind
Can think or comprehend
He’s bigger than the heart and soul
He knows everything
He’s greater than the miracle
That He performs throughout the day
He’s greater than the mystery
That knows He hears me when I pray
He’s larger than the moon and stars
The sun that lights the day
He’s larger than the sweet grace
That He so generously gives away
He’s more alive than the breath of life
In silence He inspires faith
He’s more alive than the blood
That covers us all with a second chance
He’s the love that fills us all
With joy that flows through the veins
He’s love that is meant to be given
Without any reason or conditions
He’s a God who holds the world
In the center of his palm
He has all the answers
To prayers we whisper with hope
He’s the inspiration that we need
When compassion colors our thoughts
He’s wisdom strength and light
That brings assurance, hope and insight
He’s the one I long to know
Intimately and completely – fully
He’s alive like a consuming fire
That warms my soul so pleasantly
He’s peace that flows through me
When I feel the heat of his kiss
He’s the caress that welcomes me
When I need a kind and true friend
He’s my hope, my faith, my love
He’s the One who makes life worthwhile