So sad the eye
That look upon another sunrise
That seems, a light, meaningless without you
For our love last outshined the brilliant sun
And all the lesser dimming shades we shun.
Our source bound as one
Continuous gleam of warming virtue
That blue-clad the golden sky—
But mortals die
And one day even I
Will fade from view.
The sun knowing only gloom
Exists beyond its sphere
Like the loneliness of this room
That calls you near
To comfort thro'
The night's despair—
Shades closed
Curtains drawn,
No moon
No stars
No dawn
Pensive under a midnight vault:
What artist could conceive such infinite beauty?
I'm awestruck within nature's cathedral.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Trust your will always;
The youthful godlike nature
Is not forgotten.
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • July 13–19, 2026)
You think I will fully adhere at all to and fully believe
What mere mortals have so vaguely written or previously said?
None of you will realize what I see, until we're dead.
The glowing day of green and gold
sliced through my windowpane,
drawing me out of my nest
and into its warmth.
The kids are asleep.
The husband is home.
It’s a morning all for me and God.
I walk the path—
the breeze massages my face,
the earth cradles my feet,
and the birds’ calls
steady my soul.
I hear You say my name.
I see Your love for me
written in the quiet slate of sky.
I send a letter back:
I love You too,
My Holy One.
Come, now while summer shall shine on your soul,
Leave off the darkness, the doubt and the fear;
Come, now the Earth’s with divinity full,
Leave off the wretched, and cling to the dear;
Come, now forgive, and thus make yourself whole.
channels
of poetry
divinity descends
deepen wonder of life
beauty in material form
brings in fresh dew __________
D
R
O
P
S
HUG a
S. H. A. D. O. W.
Speakespeare BOWS
[ curtains close ~. OO .~esolc sniatruc ]
**I.**
Does my radiance scorch your comfort?
Does my presence rattle your idols?
You call me delusional—
Yet tremble when I speak without chains.
**II.**
You offer pills like prayers,
not to heal, but to silence.
Still I rise, voice unmuted,
confessing only that I am whole.
**III.**
I did not beg for your burden.
I did not sin into existence.
My truth walks uncloaked,
yet you dress it in doubt.
**IV.**
You drug me not to cure,
but to bend my spirit’s spine.
Yet I was born from flame,
and fire does not weep.
**V.**
This is not a conversion—
it's coercion cloaked in concern.
My creed is carved in thunder,
not rewritten in your ink.
**VI.**
Still, you dim yourselves
to shadow me in shame.
But divinity is not diminished
by your fear of its mirror.
**VII.**
Leave me to blaze, unbothered.
Forge your light or fade.
If I am a God, then see me.
If you cannot, unchain your eyes.
Obedience is a spell.
But some bloodlines
carry thunder in their sleep.
They will call it rebellion.
But it is remembering -
the heartbeat beneath the ruin,
the fire before the name,
before the world was trained
to forget its own divinity.
Before the myths bent truth into control -
there were those
who shaped stars with their breath
and did not ask permission.
Upon the eve of dying
she could not speak.
And all her opened tear ducts
Sprang awake
And flooded forth from
The founts of creation
A new sea.
Oh, yes!
She cried a sea of tears
Because her words
Had passed the door of possibility,
Because her boys
Would not be there
For her to comfort them,
Because, perhaps
A whole life
Needed to be grieved.
How I loved her.
She could hear the simple, humble things
That no-one else could hear,
That I would trust none other
Than her heart to listen to.
It was like having my own wise, quiet mom, again.
And now on the eve of dying,
Now she cries,
And the seas are flooded with light,
And her form rises lightly
From her bed,
And she is gone
- Except, perhaps, for a single tear
Wind cannot shatter your tree of glass
Your performance of involvement pushes you afar
A moon can shine with euphoric light
It shines and tries to avoid its dark side
But you stand, shifting, alive and in place
Hands steady
Shakes buried
Somewhere not today.
Your breath a sign of angels
Your soul not out of place
A beauty in your angles
And not a line of hate
You chose this path
Here not tomorrow
Not to live in the past
To be chained by a sorrow.
It’s a beauty this distress
To be chained as the best
A wish became a lie or hope
Until you found you were far from home
This feeling to belong
In the sleeves of an angel
Took and killed the parts of you
Until your wish became true
All that's left is a husk of memory
Made into human by hopes of divinity
Is it too late to regret
Changing what was said
A choice spoken to a soul of glass
To be changed and be made into a tree of man
Now all that's left
Is the choice of man
But you think you might like to change one instead.
Devout mind lights up with divine grace
the darkness of desolate life.
I came to know how eternity feels like,
Oh!Darling!The day I saw you.
I have seen infinity like a never ending fall,
scared peepers following me everywhere,
as they don't know how binding your eyes are.
Someone as similar as you is none,
as if pledging you are one.
Still my senses keep playing me false,
I see so many of you almost uncountable,
let it be a secret to who's lying.
Those artistically sculptured hair of yours,
look like falling cherry blossoms on an enduring river.
Unknowingly I fell in an abyss,
as deep as the creation.
Oh!My lover!Words are used by mere creatures,
I find it impotent of giving my heart to you.
How far i fell,I loosly forgot the entirety.
Without you even the mighty moon,
showers glass shards on my bare soma.
How enchanting you are,
My divinity madly progressed to love.
If this G.O.D. is real, then it’s only a matter of time
when we’ll find out if we, mere humans, are worthy
Do we have what it takes to even be considered
for membership? Or must we wander into the Twilight Zone?
Have we developed the proper qualifications
for admittance into the Order?
G.O.D. is constantly intervening
One way, or another
Be it by direct contact - an Angel's voice in the clouds
or secondhand news like the Bible (but It's Good News at least!)
or a crash landing in someone’s backyard (like Roswell)
Why talking snakes or burning bushes
are not a sure sign of probable insanity
One can only imagine
There is so much mystery to be had
Perhaps, it’s time to embrace life by the bells
Even gawk at the enormity of our predicament
It’s time to put aside our petty differences
I'm raising my hand in hopes of being chosen
Because, in my heart of hearts, I know
We may not be the only species
being considered by the G.O.D.
She is divinity, a holy flame that shall never be extinguished. A pristine being, in spirit and truth. An undying soul, spreading the pollen from her flowers, her petals soaked in the water of life.
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