Flow Poems - Poems about Flow

In the infinite cosmic silence, rivers of boundless thoughts flow, We lose ourselves in waves of illusions, calling forth the shadows of past time, We are but a dream floating on the eternal ocean of pure being, In the depths of the soul, there is no separation, only eternal flow, Everything is now and here, a dance of the...

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A swirl of color, that spoon's stirring casual. Tidal rotation, moon drunk on a tie-dyed sky. Easygoing, just flow slow....

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On the edge of time, I stand and watch how the shadows of dreams flow, people carry their burdens like stars fallen from the heavens, unraveling into the sea of endless, unanswered questions, and I wonder if hope is just an illusion woven from broken desires. What is life, if not a dance of contrasts, a play of shadows...

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Follow the flow of the Tees Meet the folk whose sweat and tears shaped the land, brought in the bounty, shifted the steel to build Better places. Follow the flow of the Tees. Meet the people who fish in peace. Look for a seal or two. See them bobbing, watching you watching them. Observe them catching the rays of the sun on the...

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In the depths of the evening, where thoughts flow like rivers of trembling light, the sky stretches its amber arms, embracing silence in cloaks of dreams, and my steps are echoes of falling stars, dancing on carpets of time, for to be deciphered means to scatter your essence into unknown winds. I prefer to be a floating illusion on...

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The river moves but never dies, It carries all it cannot keep. Beneath its glass, the silence lies, A cradle where the old dreams sleep. I watch it wind through stone and silt, A silver ribbon pulled by time. It bears the weight of love and guilt, And every joy we failed to climb. I see my face in trembling glass, A thousand selves...

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Advocate of rent control and $30 minimum wage Free public transportation! Zohran Mamdani’s a media-appointed Sage For all illegal immigrants, full privileges and rights Defund the police, let NYC’s streets...

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Bombs begetting bombs, War mongers are safe and sound; Others being bombed: The bombing of others reaps Bloody power over them No matter who dies, Nuclear war bombing pays off; Bombs begetting bombs: Millions spent creating bombs; Trillions reaped from their bombings:- War is a business, Nuclear bombs produced and sold; Low cost drones offered:- War is for power; So is capitalism:- Just do the homework: Democracy is one thing; Power...

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Within the thick rainforest’s living light, where leaves shimmer with soft emerald light, there lives a creature no one has seen, Luminara, the secret of the night. Its skin is like liquid moonlight, cool and smooth, tracing patterns only the night knows. Its wings unfold like glass petals, translucent, catching every glimmer of the forest’s glow. It moves without a sound, a flicker of...

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Written: June 17, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: JCB Brul ***************** t~h~r~o~u~gh us, ...

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Isn't it transparent how the water always looks the same - life is wet! Still, the tap (US faucet) gets stuck at times tight, stiff, trapped a spanner (US wrench) may be required for the loosening But once it flows again it flows again, until the return of the indifferent drought Some days a mere trickle - barely enough to keep a body alive - other times,...

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Gust Slow wind Tortoise walks Never reaching Owls howl, night falls Shells protect but kill too Roots deep, not brittle Wildfire burns within me River flows without future Yet it keeps on moving, flowing Yet it keeps on moving, flowing Raindrops fall knowing fate Still they come, soft and fierce Foxes mark the night’s edge Silent, cold and waiting Life and death entwined Hope flickers on Wind and fire Fight on Alive...

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Fingertips fall— not like stones, but like rain, plucked silver threading the air. Each string holds a hush, a breath not yet forgotten. The musician builds— not a score, but the curve of a heron’s wing skimming dusk softly vanishing in a single glissando. The guzheng does not speak. It spills: vibrato, a tide rising then breaking against memory. Sound leans back— not toward silence ——but toward a distant shore we once heard. ________________ Note: Guzheng is a traditional Chinese musical instrument....

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John 8:12 Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, “I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.” I walk past the sorrows breaking through my silent plans – plans my heart borrows from the song flowing through my hands… song of light, a seeker, believer resting...

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Here we are again, on paths of time where thoughts flow like water under the sky of longing, it's absurd, I know, but I carry within me a joy that grows like a flower in a field, it's not an explosion, but a warmth like a hearth that heats the frosty night, I have no faith to light...

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