Holy Place Poems - Poems about Holy Place

Chaos surrounds me there is no escape Moment of reflection is all I ask Oasis of calm in which I am draped Sanctuary of peace in which to bask, Sounds of world retreat, no longer intrude My mind at once is cleared of confusion Heart's altar of peace spreading fortitude Sanctuary found, no persecution. Ancient holy place with its careworn face Concrete floor worn...

Continue reading...

Hear my cry for mercy as I call to you for help, as I lift my hands toward your Most Holy Place. —Psalm 28:2 NIV USHERED INTO THE MOST HOLY PLACE Morning! Yawn! Stretch! Arms rise, palms like cups filled with holy oil. Praise, thanks to almighty God, no matter the circumstance. Who has neither light, food, loved ones? Who has neither arms, feet, breath, heartbeat?...

Continue reading...

Delicate lilac violets and wild strawberries rest in satisfied splendor. Cattails ensnared in wild verdant grasses amongst daisies, sprinkled with pixie dust. Unclaimed wishes and heartfelt dreams smile from the depth of the shimmering lake. Gentle azure sky reflects an unprecedented brightness of the midsummer moon. A rustle of grass; all sounds cease in the meadow. Crickets and frogs...

Continue reading...

I will remain at this Holy place Staying here is the key to the fulfillment of my wishes At some time my destiny will shine At some point God will forgive my crimes God's pleasure towards me might increase And I will finally be able to acquire my peace Such love has never been observed Nor possible to understand The love God...

Continue reading...

Pure, melting, healing warmth radiates glory into our very souls, As with careful steps, and brokenness, we approach Thy seat of tender mercy. ...

Continue reading...

A place where man dare not tread; A place where HOLYNESS is... Unloose thy sandals and take them off; Come follow barefoot, come to Jesus; Let HIM embrace... A place to go , this HOLY PLACE 12/22/17 WRITTEN BY James Edward Lee Sr....

Continue reading...

Part 2. Into the wasteland he flies To bury the souls of lies, Beneath the leaves of time, Dirty deeds must dirty die. This then the watchman must do: Step on the fingers that try, With downward pulls to pry, Into doom flower faces, These flowers must not die. -- The conquistador arrived. He gazed at the unscathed bounty standing Respect-less before him and squinted. Surveying the laughing land, He...

Continue reading...

Part I. In the heartland of that place called home A figure sits alone in an empty chamber where Cracked walls, like squinting wrinkles, Hide silent hesitations of untold sorrows. This is not a holy place, Nor a room of peace nor prayer nor solitude- An infinite stream of broken faces flash with eyes Glaring on the bare walls, A...

Continue reading...