Best Mustard Seed Poems
The mustard seed
a wild mustard seed took flight
carried aloft in gathering light
over thistle'd sage and poppies
in countless colorful copies
as brash rain showers subside
the retreat of angry clouds abide
scolded by the Northern wind
in search of infinity's final end
once barren hills, now painted gold
snow geese forage with fledgling fold
amid the flutter of swallowtail's wings
from soil sprouted seedling life brings
'til once more mustard's children are blown
from heaven's heights the earth is sown
~~~Dedicated to my Uncle Joe~~~
Imagine the light
from the stars that we see
were merely a glimpse
of what heaven will be.
The tiniest windows
of light we are shown,
drawing our eyes
to the place we call home.
Picture a vision
of perfect white light,
no sun for the day
or moon of the night.
Just cascades of light
of none you have known,
in heavenly form
only souls can be shown.
The glory of God
so great and immense,
the stars are like pin holes
for light so intense.
They glisten and sparkle,
like beacons we're drawn,
piercing the skies
through the nights darkest dawn.
With only the faith
of a mustard size seed
we’ve claim to His Son's saving grace,
when blackness of night
shrouds the light of the day
and faith's left with fear in its place.
Over glorious triumph
of darkest despair
His mighty hand scattered night skies
with glimpses of heaven
that we call the stars,
our windows of mustard seed size.
we all came from one black mustard seed
exploding into billions
blowing into every
concrete crack
jungle leaf
burning cay
mountain top
ocean wave
fiords and caves
expanding stars
speed of light
-U-turn
imploding
back into
one black mustard seed from which we came from
Do you ever feel like you can't catch a break.
Misfortunes after the next cause your heart to ache. You beat your self over
the head wondering what you did wrong, deep in your feelings listening to
slow songs.
They say patience is a virtue, well let's test that theory. It's seems hard to
keep faith cause things get so weary. Crying all alone thinking no one can
feel your pain, nobody to talk to feels like your going insane.
The toughest thing to do is to be a tough person, not physically but mentally.
Yet things seem to worsen. Matthew 17:20 says "if you have faith as small as
a mustard seed " you can move mountains. It's from the word of God so I
highly wouldn't doubt it.
Just take heed and don't panic, you give him praise til your enemies can't
stand it. But this was just a little "pick me up" if you were feeling down,
stressed out, worried, upset with a frown. Just have a little faith, the Lord has
your back. Cause one thing he never will do is lack.
Faith like a mustard seed,
That’s all You ask
Continual praise,
Even in the midst of a storm
It is all You desire
The courage to say
“Lord I give it all over to you”
is what You are waiting for,
To lift us up,
To take our lives
Into your miracle working hands
To mend us,
To mold us,
Into God fearing,
People serving,
Always caring
Continually praying individuals…
When everything around
Us is in chaos,
All it takes is
a mustard seed of faith,
the willingness to believe
that it is not over till the
battle is won,
until You say it's done…
you wanna bump and trump the trump philosophy and tweek u.s. bankruptcy. faith as a mustard seed..is that what you're after? if I have faith as a mustard seed ,can I stop bugging God for what I need?. we must recognize the phenomenal, last night I looked in the cupboard for a potatoe to bake and low and behold I find the goldfish I had bought and thought I had lost after leaving the pet shop..when I got home I assumed I had dropped it..very sad and disappointed, this was over a month and a half ago and still alive? what a stunt! I scrambled, um delighted and this beautiful very much alive goldfish I now call angel said to me,unconcious do you have faith as ah mustard seed? I did!..I do!
be delightfully surprised when events of the divine touch your antenna..you asked to be a winner..you tuning in and the win-wind is at your back..they can holler please,please,please, you and me-we have faith, faith as ah mustard.
Grain of mustard seed
Falls into quickening soil
And grows to house birds.
Perhaps, the world would be a better place for you and me
if I helped you, then you helped me, and profit not decreed.
If you were sick I’d care for you the golden rule the creed.
We’d plant gardens, grow our food, all share when there was need.
Mothers, Fathers, daughters, sons, their joys would then exceed
the need for filthy lucre the false fostering of greed.
There was a time when this was so and profit flowed from deed
and kindness was credit given with fulfillment, love freed.
The world has grown too big it seems, now all we do is bleed.
We bleed the goodness from ourselves by actions and misdeed.
Return, I say to times of yore and to your family speed
for there is no value in false abundance….just see the mustard seed.
A boy in a
blue shirt
tucked in partly, partly out of
his Chicago Bulls
basketball shorts,
eyes half open,
snot seeping down to his
agape mouth
wet with drool
slowly flowing
to his chin
drifts over to greet our group.
He one by one
first hugs everyone then
grasps hands of one then
grasps another’s then
begins dazedly
walking trying
pulling them away
to somewhere
unknown and Men and women working
they smile
either blithely or in
embarrassed
discomfort here pass through
unsure
and bemused;
the workers
here must with rags and buckets
guide him with crutches
like this and so is
he parroting
mechanically this routine?
– no.
I do not want this to be true.
–
He is aware
of himself, there is
something there
in his faces wet with sweat
foggy
glass expression
between clumsy affection
a desire to
love us to
pull us along
with him,
and the inability to express it,
to understand it. faces tired
(Who am I to claim that I do?)
I want
to believe
in this,
in his
consciousness,
that
his face
is stuck,
is paralyzed
like one under lethal injection
like one
experiencing pain but
unable to
show it,
I want this to be true,
not for this to
be a routine
patterned task
simply occurring
because
it’s occurred
before.
Fundamentalists
Evangelists
Jihadists
HolyWar and Final Judgment and RoughLove Advocates
against infidels and other, more domesticated, sinners:
Put down your Bibles and Korans,
written to grow love
and not weapons for bleary-eyed bullies.
You spend too much time reading and thinking
and arguing
to let your spiritual emotions swell and grow love.
Instead,
pick up a small recycled brown paper bag
of healthy
fertile
organic mustard seeds.
Learn faith with them,
that together you might grow
to know
this radiant reign of God's Eternal Light and NonDual Dark.
Plant them into Advent darkness,
care for them,
water them
and not the tarish tearing weeds
of envy and supremacy,
hypocrisy and punishing misjudgment,
superstition
and hope for antiEarth anti-logical magic,
nightmares and violence,
anger and fear-mongering,
Old Testament blood sacrifices
and enslavement to false fascist idols
as if these were large enough
to contain the wisdom of one regenerative mustard seed,
sprouting radiant love for God's sun
and MotherEarth's baptismal waters,
fueling our shared root restorative ecosystem.
Harvest these therapeutic cultures of health
and gratitude
and grace,
make spicy brown mustard with them.
Serve to and from your students
and children
and mentees
on homemade 7-Grain ReGenerate Manna.
Wait for Paradise
to flow through your mouths,
down your throats,
into your communion stomachs.
If your kids are faithful and loving goats,
watch them wag their tails,
wages of love and not sin,
in gratitude for Grace.
If human
help us listen to,
and speak,
and write better tales
for restorative healing of love,
omnipresent as a mustard seed's integrity
of each moment's sacred with secular potential.
And if you should learn faith as one of these kids,
your tail
and tales
will wag truer,
and far more grace-filling effective
and affective
and infective
and reflective
too.
Then you may be safe to return
to your holier-with-you gardening books
on how to grow histories of love
without sinning against faith
of a mustard seed.
Potential full,
This tiny seed;
Encapsulated promises
Not fulfilled;
Unseen.
Watered by Love;
It’s hard shell softens;
Love beckons its release;
grace extended;
promises unfold;
new life to behold,
Yet,
but
a
glimpse
of new beginning.
Unwavering it is that I have,
For there is no one greater than he.
For it is uncompromising to what the world has for me,
As I stand on the word boldly.
Small but forever bearing fruit,
For it shall move mountains and part waters,
Cast spirits from sons and from daughters.
It is the key that we must posses to get home,
Without it how can I pray?
Or listen to what the spirit may say.
It shall determine if the word just sits or manifest,
For it's value is greater than it's size.
For it is only size to the unlearned eyes,
For within i contain my Mustard seed,
For my fruits will bear abundantly.
Thank You for the Mustard Seed
My father gave me a mustard seed
Entombed in a crystal sphere.
It hung from a chain around my neck
As a promise of rescue when I felt fear.
It’s what I had wanted, was dying for
This portal to hope in a charm.
Oh I was young and didn’t know
Trinkets don’t keep me from harm.
My necklace of hope was lost in the years
As the message it brought was too.
I wasn’t aware that the seed still lived
And from my parents grew.
Sweet Jesus you said my miniscule prayer
Could move mountains and save us all.
That small belief turned out as a thief
Of an naive child’s doleful call.
My pleas never came to pass, oh lord
Those avés so pitifully sought.
I’d prayed as well as I possibly could,
Just as I thought I’d been taught.
I ask not redemption, lamb of my youth
Tho’ relic and faith displaced.
My anchor was sown when given to life
And holds sure as any grace.
Symbols are symbols and stories are old.
Sometimes the lessons are lost when they’re told.
As was with the given mustard seed
The charm is gone – but I live through their deed.
© September 2, 2002
Kathryn McL. Collins
Matthew 17:20 ~ And Jesus said unto them, "Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, if ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain. Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you".
Faith
Moves hearts
Calms the sea
Dries my sorrow
Rock
~~Inspired by Rick Parise
I carry this burden, this weight round my neck
I’ve carried it so long, it’s left scars, sure, you can check
I am searching to find some new way to lighten my load
Without feeling the guilt of doing as you’re told
I wrestle inside me for what might be right
It seems sometimes I am not willing to fight
A signal, a something, I want to receive
And perhaps then I’d be willing to believe
If I just relax, sit back and think it all through
I have the answer I am sure, let me tell you
No need to go looking any further than here; I haven’t yet tried
All that I need, everything is waiting, it is all right inside