It was nearly without sound,
Save a tree-brushed mountain breeze
When I rose beneath fog's blanket
And stepped lightly through the trees.
In reverence of the aura there
Subdued in temperance;
Without a word, just in tears
I offered holy reverence.
Before me in this quiet place
A lake, in still perfection,
Lay without the slightest wave;
Heaven's mirror gave reflection.
As I gazed into the glassy lake
My soul and spirit swooned
With God's creation holding me
He healed my hidden wounds.
No greater ambiance nor scene
Has since renewed my core.
I found the Prince of Peace that morn
On a pristine mountain shore.
Next, the sun began to rise
And the Quakies clapped their hands
Creation birthed a brand-new day
And I began to understand:
God is a God of perfect peace
Who in countless ways can bless
Whether heaven sent or by a stream
He gives the seeker rest.
If your world has left you wounded,
"Come unto Me, sons and daughters"
God offers early morning grace
To bless beside still waters.
Psalms 23: 2 (KJV) “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures;
He leadeth me beside still waters.”
The blotted ink of sky engulfs my dream
While nightfall's soot and fog darken the shore,
And I , a tattered leaf, tremble midstream
Infecting my solace much like before.
Dreary this roam, this dreary roam so cold
Attended by a willow tree's limp veil;
Like ghastly air with sordid woes untold
Of slumber deepening... its tomb, my nail.
And in a haze, snow circles tainted blue
As forceful winds begin their groan, one howl
My tassels unraveling to imbue
This cry for life paling as woods befoul.
Yet, branches of hope , they rain down on me,
For spring redeems ...bright as eternity.
Whispers of Nature’s Soul
Respect the hush of morning dew,
Soft light dancing on blades anew.
Gratitude hums in songbird’s flight,
A harmony woven through soft light.
Truth flows like rivers carving stone,
Silent, steady, forever known.
Honor stands like ancient trees,
Rooted deep with quiet ease.
Incredulity clouds the sky,
Yet wild winds teach us to fly.
Leaves whisper secrets as they fall,
Nature’s truths speak clear to all.
Respect the frost on trembling grass,
Gratitude in shadows cast.
Truth is found in open skies,
Honor gleams in eagle’s eyes.
Incredulity fades to dawn,
When night surrenders, light is drawn.
Nature’s voice is soft and clear,
A vow of love we hold dear.
Norman Van Etten
The unspooling line
whispers in the damp morning,
"Today is the day!"
5. "May is the month of promise and the sweet beginnings of summer." - Unknown
From March the dark brown
when soil is turned down
soon quiet seedlings rise
with a bright green surprise
bursts of pink, red or blues
all provide summer’s muse
still there follows more green
until all sprung and preen
delightful is May’s greenery
full of hope in its scenery
Extreme explosions rendered a cloud,
Before the sky turned to a leaden shroud;
When the rain was water and not a sting,
He held a pocket of forgotten things.
He saw the smoke on the far-off rim,
The way the clover was beginning to pale;
He knew the future was growing dim,
A flickering lamp in a rising gale.
He didn’t build walls or a silver vault,
He didn’t cry out at the coming fault;
Instead, he found a fractured seam,
And buried a small, persistent dream.
"I will not see you," he whispered low,
"But perhaps you’ll wait for the soot to go."
A silent promise to a dying land,
He pressed the earth with a trembling hand.
The cities crumbled to mounds of salt,
Secure in its dark and earthen vault,
The seed waited for the ashen stone
To bloom for a traveler, wandering alone.
I opened my window
as wide as wide could be
and welcomed in the sunshine.
Spring finally upon us,
it filled my lungs with hope.
AP: 1st place 2026
Thousands of hands slash their eyes
When a thousand truths turn bloody lies.
Her morning smells of stale beer,
Her evening tastes of local fear –
Lights flicker on. Beds curse the strain.
Not the mind, not the head
Knows the helix of pain
That aches in man: downwards led.
Stoic statues weep at bleeding shelves
Of drooling words and lost lovers;
Everyman stands in walled cells
Dim and dimming others.
The sun descends, dark clouds unite,
Caged cattle cry, birds and wind fight:
The heart, the street, the sky, fall ill –
The world bleeds. Yet the stars shine still.
Pigeon
The pigeon is thinking
Oh, where shall I fly
I’ve had a good drink
From the birdbath outside.
I can go where I want to
A yard or ten miles
No limits, no hold ups
No terminals ever
God gave me the right
To fly where I want to
He'll always provide
I don’t have to worry
Whatever the scene.
I could say one moment
One day at a time
That’s all I’ve been given
So fly, pigeon fly.
Help me learn from a birdie
Like Jesus once said
Don’t worry, don't fret
Tomorrow will worry
Its own things about.
Read Matthew chapter 6, verse 34!
The autumn leaf curls within tree tops.
Fresh off the frost-lined arm of oak,
vibrant as the sweetest of tangerines.
It passes its crinkly brethren,
trekking through those yet to venture to roots,
gliding by ghosts of the already travelled.
Branches glare with eagle-eyes,
gnarled limbs twisting,
plotting to capture the leaf
with wooden talons and bramble nets.
The vengeful wind,
jaws at the ready,
wishes to shred the traveller in two
with crooked wrenches in all directions.
But the leaf dances around the branches,
and tucks its corners away from the breeze.
It whistles along with a playful tune.
Forever elusive.
Forever free.
Oh let Your blessings,
Divinely calm me.
In difficulty,
Influence my worries-
Cum settled affluence.
Learn my unrest
Quietness, to leave
Supposed cool fun,
Drag overtime.
Set pace off,
On hope's bid:
Keeping eyes-
To dice,
For luck's
Claim!
Mini-ku
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
Contest Judged: 10/7/2025 4:39:00 AM
( 4th Place )
moonlight glows
over still grass
flowers close
NATURE FINDS ITS WAY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The crack in the sidewalk,
a stubborn line against the grey,
filled with green.
Not invited, not planned, just a seed,
carried on wind, finding purchase,
insisting on life.
A dandelion, maybe, or something tougher,
something that knows concrete yields,
e
v
e
n
t
u
a
l
l
y.
Think of that small rebellion
when the path ahead
feels like stone.
Remember the persistent green,
the quiet strength
that cracks the surface.
Nature finds its way.
You will too.
1404 Poetry Contest //Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Contest Judged: 8/20/2025 11:34:00 AM
( 2nd Place )
Written: August 14, 2025
lantern quivers dusk,
shadows twist like whispered secrets--
fireflies thread the sky.
. .
. | .
\|/
`--+--'
/|\
. | .
' '
Early Sunrise
golden dawn in view
new orb splatters orange tints
birds’ songs fill the air
signs of divine grace from sky
spread bright hues of hope on earth
gilded orb ascends
summer warmth spreads in the space
nature starts anew
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