Contemplative Poems - Poems about Contemplative

It is prophesied that “Wisdom dwells In contemplation; There we must seek her...” After...

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If a day starts/ ends without me, I would be totally happy and free Free from worries and anxieties Temptations and negativities The world is temporary Life has to be returned No regrets to be carried on For eternal offers more I Have been in this world long before And I thought my purpose was...

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Annotations of mis-co-ordinations of the latest military drone strike The fear when the children of Ukraine hear bomb raid sirens into the night What’s near when all that you can contain is silenced by your fright A seer blind in the conventional way and devoid of traditional visual sight Theolonius Monk riffing improvised scales on...

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I praise you God for all in which you live, evolving in creation so diverse. I meet you Jesus in the Gospel texts uplifting those whom most of us reject. I love you Christ through all in whom you dwell, thankful that in me you also find a home. Lamenting how mankind has messed up life I feel remorse. I too have...

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A Contemplative Sojourn Through The Breeze The continuity of perspective required for accurate conclusions The ingenuity of the reflective inspired by immaculate infusions The co-morbidity of defective desires for considerate inclusions The plain fluidity of the introspective fires of commensurate confusion Why does the momentary delight fade with contemplation ? How do we constantly engage to fight instead...

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Foraging through the firry forest I came upon roses in the wild, not the elusive morel I sought, but roses, pink, mauve, cerise, and scarlet. They raised their velvety, flushed heads as if to encourage my caress. Fragrance, so tantalizing, wafted as I tenderly stroked their grandeur. I sat awhile and marveled in them before continuing on my studied way. A delightful respite from my...

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I praise you God … I praise you God for all in which you live. I seek you Jesus … I seek you Jesus in the Gospel texts. I find you Christ … I find you Christ through all in whom you dwell, thankful that in me you also find a home. Lamenting how mankind has messed up life I feel remorse ......

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As said by the wise ones, wisdom dwells In contemplation; there we must seek her. So it is with the musing mind; always seeking To nourish itself with seeds of guiding wisdom:- Thus, so it is and must always be when we feed On thoughts of creation, us, heaven, hell, and earth; What we think and hope for cannot be divorced From...

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Contemplative moment Late October if has rained but stopped the town is green air mild and gentle, but no jubilation no flowers grow. Seed slumbers in the soil. The mules in the field look pensive, sad too they are of no use anymore the farmers keep some as they make the landscape rustic. Who loved a tractor painted blue? The harvest of...

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under the bright sunshine of innate contemplative serenity let gentle waves flow from the ocean of words—kissing the shores of mind—frothing it with quiet bursting bubbles of whispering peace— completing mission purpose—moisturizing the cranial atmosphere—with imaging euphoric bliss…blowing the mind… now let the mind’s ears hear the vibing rhythmic beat of your heart pumping the melodic flow of intrinsic love energizing you in your labors of love as...

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One thundering Thursday, in a thicket of trees I had thought I had thunk a real thought. I was thinking deeply, when alas, creepily, a thought appeared, jeering at the tip of my tongue. It said “At once you thought you’d thunk a thought, but alas, you’ll see, a thought has thunk you.” “And now not the faintest...

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I remain unsure of how to reliably robustly resonantly resiliently and yet autonomously distinguish between contemplative leisure and contempt provoking laziness. I remain unsure why Eastern metaphysicians, spiritual/natural nondualistic teachers continue to describe ego as not only ignorant of identity's leisurely origins, but also lazy-eye False; And, in a positive corollary, I remain steadfastly unsure Why ego's experience of living Earth is not merely an insufficiently delusional lens but also is taught as an unnecessary laziness...

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If walls could talk What would Keats or Wilde’s walls say? Or Lenin or Lennon’s? Or the walls of a pub A prison or a morgue? Ah, but now walls do speak Your walls Our home is in the ether We are immortal The needs for our feeds Your walls will talk forever Your rants Your memes Your poems Your cat pictures with laser dots That plate of lasagne Who you...

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Here in the quietness like that of a silent root growing deep into the earth, I sit in the womb of my room, contemplating a tributary flow of imaging words from the lexical river of verse; sending streaming messages to the belly of starving eyes Suddenly, and as quiet as a shooting star across the sky’s vastness, a small black spider eight-track its way across a clear...

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It’s time to rhyme....

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