Best Spiritual Poems
your labored breathing
called out to me
and in my soul I knew
what needed to be done
I reached for the drum
to summon the spirits
called out to ancestors
and anyone who’d listen
gently tapping to the rhythm
of our beating hearts
united as one in a prayer
released to the universe
filled the silence of
your labored breathing
drumming for hours
till the pleading was done
everything had been said
the prayer consummated
left in the hands
of the universe to respond
then it did in no uncertain terms
in an exorcism of sorts
draining the passages
to free your breathing
and so it was
in tune with the universe
the healing power
of the drum
Read on air by invitation ~ February 11, 2021 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
Read on KPBX called Poetry Moment by Kara Bowman 2022 [karabowman.com and griefpoetry.com]
AP: 2nd place 2022, 2nd place 2021, 3rd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2021, Honorable Mention 2021, Honorable Mention 2021, Honorable Mention 2021, Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on June 13, 2025 for contest YOUR BEST AUDIO POEM sponsored by TOM WOODY - RANKED 2ND
and on May 28, 2021 for contest ALL YOURS (MAY 29) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
Come to me my beloved,
save me from life's brutalities,
so this heart can soften -
sparkle like a million fireflies.
For you hold the light
to illuminate my soul.
For you are the ceremony
and I the dance.
As you come near,
I'll spin like a mad man,
dancing in the rain.
If to touch you is a sin,
then I am a sinner,
yearning to sin till my last breath.
If to hold you, means to lose everything,
then I will live as a penniless man,
rich within the luxuries of your affection.
If to love you is a crime,
then I am a criminal,
lock me away and dispose of the key,
chain me within the chambers of your heart.
If this is my last poem,
then let these words become spirits,
sleeping within the sacred sanctuary
of your supernal soul.
Silent One
Simple Musing
5 January 2019
Fear not of the undiscovered journey -
the soul’s compass will show you the way ~ the poet
When the curtain finally falls
and angels soft chimed voices calls
there are no mourning tears to seep
Oh Lord, as I lay down to sleep.
Time to set forth upon my way
towards that honeyed, nectar ray
Pray not my dear loved ones to weep
Oh Lord, as I lay down to sleep.
Shell left behind for pure sheer bliss
all mind’s attachments to dismiss
eternal life so shall I reap
Oh Lord, as I lay down to sleep.
Loving arms gently guiding me
amongst heavenly sights I see
my saviour at my side to keep
Oh Lord, as I lay down to sleep.
Soul radiant as it takes flight
fleeing shackles from dark to light
Pray not my dear loved ones to weep
Oh Lord, I awake from deep sleep.
A field afire
papery petals glow like ruby votive candles
a collection of cupped solar flames
vowed to shine despite the dew before dawn
evaporating any doubt the sun would rise
the mist would lift
consoling one in darkness
Rising up where wildflowers past have fallen
victim to soil fallow and shallow
your Spring growth resurrects my hope
as your resurgent blooms stretch to the heavens
I awaken thawed from the frost of loss
regenerated by dreams
of undying love sacrifice and joy
O poppy blood red
vast your bed a symbol of life and death
and imagination.. you inspire me with your irony
your roots belie a feathery foliage
anchored though airy
light and looking like you might take flight
but spirited blossoms stand an army of angels
earthbound and blushing
My breath stops when I gaze upon you — yet
when I walk among your thronging whorls
grazed by your grace
my chest rises and falls
my bloodstream set ablaze
by the grandeur of your inner light
my heart rejoices with the voices of breezes
aswirl with a swish through your scarlet banners of peace
We share a savor for new-day chardonnay skies
tender the warm tinge before summer’s singe
rhythmic air moves us with singsong sighs
a swaying dance of sepaled celebrants
with nary a fresh bud trod upon
crimson and sunrise spirit and flesh
raising palms and psalms in thanks and praise
festive in rebirth and remembrance
where tears fall not as rain but as
c o n f e t t i
as my heart carries the bouquet of your immortal beauty
like a bride on her May wedding day
Susan Ashley
March 11, 2022
*Dedicated to my father who gently passed on June 10, 2021.
You are loved and missed dearly, dad
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Spring Showers or Spring Flowers
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
*nary: not, or not any
(Image: Glow with pride: Express.co.uk)
At day's end, I take in the last light
seeping into the dark waters
across the bay and keep it here.
I gather the sound of departing gulls
smudged on the sky, the quietening
settle of birds in the cypress trees
along the foreshore, the giggle
of a child high on a swing
being pushed by a mothers hand.
I hold here the gentle sweep
of waves soaking into wet sand,
the slow roll of seaweed, bubbles
bursting around shells, wings
low over the water.
I draw in the evening and keep
it close with its lights
sprinkled around the edges
of the headland,
emerging stars hung soundless
in the heavens, the blinking
passage of a southbound airplane
heading into a long night.
From somewhere, the smell
of honeysuckle spilling
into the waiting air.
I make my way home, filled
with all that I have taken in,
almost happy having little space
left over to fit myself.
The worldliness within the sphere
reflecting morning light,
as poignant as a single tear
idea bright is crystal clear
and frames the heavens in her sight
though soft the fall through night.
Settled 'pon a leaf flirtation
awakens dreamy mist,
sow the sweetest need sensation
clings a kiss in wild elation,
and though short-lived the earthy tryst
a reason to exist.
But rendezvous a bitter binge
though gentle loves cajole,
for soon the feel of daystar’s singe
O lifting dew from leafy fringe
no matter of the kiss they stole
the cosmos in her soul.
Deep the tender-hearted flower
whose muse elusive dew,
look how she shines this golden hour
evanescence is her power
as rays do make such moments few
alas, the mourners coo.
Susan Ashley
June 18, 2022
~ Fourth Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 7
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: Dewdrops
Sponsor: Angel L. Villanueva
*Required rhyme scheme: ABAABB CDCCDD EFEEFF GHGGHH
*Required syllable count: 868886
*rhymes checked: rhymezone
*syllables checked: howmanysyllables
*idea: 3 syllables per howmanysyllables*
Grace-full is the lily born of virtue’s milk
Inspiring me with petals pure in my hour of need -
Vow and vim of passion vivid and empowering as I
Imagine the strength of soulful surrender while three
Nails were driven into a suffering so great -- selflessly You
Gave Your mortal life so I may live despite thorns and thirst
Grateful is my blossom watered with Your blood and tears
Opened with a faith unfurled by Light I venerate
Devotions trumpet from a callous soul once solus - jubilant the
Lifeless root that stood futile in fertile remorse before I
Yielded my yoke to the hands of merciful Love; please Lord
Grant me the fortitude to face my sorrow - Your
Resurrection reminds me of the sacred sacrifice endured
Accepted with the courage I strive to possess -- though I
Cannot conceive.. I believe in the circle of contentment; the
Essence and embrace of God’s white whorl of salvation
Susan Ashley
June 1, 2021
~ N/A ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 16
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ Tenth Place ~
Premiere Contest: Giving Godly Grace
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
the raspy whisper
finally
gets my full attention -
wistfully I smile
..for its persistence reminds me of you..
the crisp red leaf
scuttles scrapingly
across the gray pavement
to and fro
like a dancing crab
moving with the whims of the winds
chasing me
as it seemed like I had once chased my dreams;
blown in directions left up to chance
..until I met you..
..is it now, as it was then
Destiny?
for in this instant, my sense of direction
seems predestined..
a smoky scent
spices the chilled blue air
reminding me of our cozy nights
curled with the fire
..entranced
as we were
with our warmth
and our flame..
could it be
love signals from the hearth
calling me home..?
..my soul
feels akin to the red leaf,
the wafting smoke
and I am ready to follow..
Would the cold atmosphere be so cruel
as to play capricious tricks upon my eyes... or
..is that really
YOU
standing there..?
Oh!
my beloved,
how my broken spirit
has suffered
in my pining desire to be with you -
I run to you!
years of yearning prayers answered
fingertips straining - stretching further
reaching out to touch you,
the whole of my being aching
to hold you and enfold you
..ah, I feel your heat
so very close to me..
Alas!
I fall to my knees,
my arms empty
but for the loss I carry..
your warm breath
on the nape of my neck
only my hot want
brewed with a cool wisp of the breeze
..Oh, God! Please!
just let it be
let me go..!
my forsaken flame less than a dying ember;
I but ashes in my grief
withered
in my autumn season
without you
still...
I’m slow to realize...
that your fading glow just the sun slanting low
blurring wicked whimsy with my wild sorrow
in the burning of these bitter tears.
Susan Ashley
December 2, 2018
~ First Place ~
Contest: NA the day away
Sponsor: Lu Loo
*N/A’d: Best Free Verse 2019 Poetry Contest*
~ Honorable Mention ~
Contest: Your Choice (2) Any Theme, Form
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~ Poem Of The Day ~
December 4, 2018
Dancing in space
Waltzing in the universe
Pirouetting on cloud banks
Aah yes
Come with me
Let’s dance together
Ancient flute notes echo
Amidst starshine and lost memories
I feel you there beside me
Peeking around planets
Your eyes seeking me out
Our fibers entwined
Through passion and loss
Our unspoken words
Spun like gold thread
Around our bleeding hearts
An inhale ~ a memory
Meeting you in the ocean
Immersing ourselves in blankets of mist and fog
Lavender foam adorned with turquoise sparkles
Glinting off wave tips
My nakedness enveloped
Salty tears
My mouth open
Searching for you
I walk through time
Through walls of water
The waves part
As I find my way
Inward
Onward
To the sacred place within
I feel the air ~ quiet now
My fingertips sense my surroundings
I smell your heartbeat
In darkness my palms touch yours
A vibration of heat
Of laughter
Of knowing
Of ancient memories
Coupling our souls
Forever
I see the wrinkles in your suntanned brow,
You carried burdens then; you see them now.
You’ve heard the cries your people who in pain,
Have shed their tears two hundred years like rain.
Your sad brown eyes, reflecting now the sky
I see the wings of eagles flying by
Beside you stands an Appaloosa mare
Her spirit one with you now over there.
You hear the drums, they bid you to come near,
Your spirit drawn the beats they ring so clear.
Song like prayers are chanted through the night,
Calling you come, and help them end their plight.
You’ve heard sad cries and now stand at their side,
You join the prayers with both arms open wide,
United spirits sing until the dawn,
When in the fire’s flames a golden fawn.
Remembering a smile crosses your face,
When tribes were one with Mother Nature’s grace.
The lakes and streams flowing with waters clear,
Flow sadly now, the planet lives in fear.
The weightless feathers that adorn your head
Your tribes grey future weighed you down instead.
Now breathing deep you smell the winds of change
While here on earth your people rearrange.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
10.21.2014
Giorgio A.V. Contest
Iambic Pentameter
1st place
A body abandoned
needs to mourns its last breath in death
a heart cast aside
still aches to meet its last beat
and a free spirit yearns for a winged monarch moment
to fly in the spirit of freedom…
opportunity
flares a tongue
snaky and bittersweet.. a flicker
grows flames that twist passion’s kiss with kismet
a chance
to escape on a breath of air
an exhalation;
warm incense offered to vesper -
the wish of a scent to slip through the keyhole
above the hiss of heat
and gasps of air
rushing combustion to a roar
airy mystics spoke in the eerie smoke
w h i s p e r s
urge the purge of perishable pain
unclasping lonely-linger’s grasping fingers
soft-spun knit and purl unravels
as vintage yarn twined with sun and rain unties -
aging rays fail to stave Winter’s grays
and the ethereal thread of an earthly creation
releases its tendril
from the spinning wheel’s weave of circular seasons
from seed to harvest and warmth to chill
vestiges of sisterly hands cup a ceded sigh
chrysalis celebrates destined to re-emerge a butterfly
terminal tremble of a twilight trill is hushed
vulnerability swaddled
cradled by clouds of silver and gold
a mortal’s surrender consummates upon the pyre -
cinders cleansed of tears and cries and vices
but never the dreamy intrinsic colors
of the opal’s unfurling blaze
she ascends
a flash of embers relieved of ash
taking fire to the skies with a tigress torch igniting
molten pools spooning the spine of the western shadow
heralding an awakened afterglow to the afterlife -
lamplight gilds mare’s tails hooking heavens
pathways adrift from the burning thurible
of a trinity on the cusp of rebirth...
incense rises upon a heated atmosphere
riding the riddle of the four winds
beyond realms of soil and salt - reason and logic
yonder the profound truth of the-not-humanly-known
seeing past reflections within mere margins of a mind’s mirror
accepting the enlightening throb of the enigmatic pulse of creation
becoming one with the ultimate mystery
the wish of a scent to slip through the keyhole
fulfilled with exchange of gifts -
the offering of her sunset shroud
for the white mantle of sunrise
surrendering
reflective puddles
of rained regrets and sins
I offer my humility
the only gift I can give.
Susan Ashley
September 2, 2018
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Pithy Pants
Sponsor: Maureen McGreavy
--Virginia Slim--
Different eyes, the same world
Ancient skin, dirty Indian Girl
Smokey, eyes, exotic raven hair
---Now listen to the colors, of transformation,
On the day she was born, the wind blew in,
A blessing ---her soul, fallen from the heavens
A gorgeous puff of smoke, Miss Virginia Slim
Able to walk the world with an open mind, she twirls
Pocahontas, one of her many names.
She carves, and climbs on trees, this little Indian Girl,
Her feathers ride with the wind, against her red titian skin
Daughter of Chief Powhatan, a powerful tribal, red man
Peace and love with the Indians of her Virginia Lands,
Many myths, many stories, maybe a mad woman,
A new Christian, living sad poverty, a silent hero,
Twisted tales, from savage green to ivory white religion
In her eyes, life never was about greed and skin
Her new look attained an altitude precision
Pocahontas tricked and captured,
Set to sail another tribe, lands were taken over,
Boat sailed out of Virginia Lands
Tribes acclaimed her to be wild and ambitious
"The naughty one," searching for admission
Native American child, before the princess,
Her beautiful soul, a short auspicious beginning
Leaving her world, beautiful and fearless
Forgetting her roots-- From Mother Willow's Vision
Pocahontas, the Indian Legend from, The Virginia Lands
by;PD
Tenderness exudes from him as he takes the hand
Of the woman, sick and frail; he’s a gifted man.
Uncommonly calm, he utters, “God has a plan.”
Consoling her, he is guided to soothe her soul and
Heal her body, for God’s spirit tells him he can.
with each crest of a wave
forming white crystal peaks
she weeps, inhales, let's go.
beneath a star studded vista
a resplendent guiding light
arms open, palms up, she is free.
the soothing sea winds
carrying away her grief and sorrow
hands posed in devotion, she smiles.
in a seascape of serenity
her baptism place of choice
she steps forward, her new beginning.
02-17-2017