We meet as strangers,
eyes brushing past like wind on stone.
Your name, a sound I barely hold;
mine, a word already fading.
We nod, we pass,
two islands adrift,
separated by the waters we cannot see.
But beneath the surface,
where the roots of being entwine,
I hear your mother’s laughter,
your father’s sigh.
The echo of ancestors hums in your blood—
their stories written in the dark rivers
of your veins.
And mine hum with the same rhythm.
What lives in you is not yours alone.
The old songs of earth,
the murmur of forgotten prayers,
the collective pulse of life—
they rise and fall in us,
woven into the fabric we did not weave
but wear all the same.
Here, the silence speaks.
We are not alone.
The distance dissolves,
and the sacred thread of living substance
binds us.
Your breath touches mine,
and I know—
we belong to a wholeness
too vast to name.
In the meeting of depths,
God moves unseen,
pulling us toward one another
and into Himself.
What seemed ordinary
becomes holy ground,
a communion of lives
woven into eternity.
"The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children."—Romans 8:16
Categories:
living substance, christian, inspirational,
Form: Free verse
Harsh is the time of your birth
The bleaching sun, taking away all beauty of the earthly jade.
But out of this parched season,
You bring forth the passions of your ever living substance.
Whispers of the cool, dry winds
Wave your exquisiteness for all to see.
Canvasing the floor of the soft earth,
Beneath each towering tree.
The stately soft petal
Of your comeliness fall ever gracefully.
Like the rains, that you seemingly beckon
To come and drench the thirsting earth.
Your cries for the heavens
To bless the earth is without sound,
But great things occur in silence,
Just as the warm sun rises.
The God of the heavens
The great creator set you as a sign.
A herald of great tidings,
For the rain draweth nigh.
Not once, nor twice but as many as three times
Your passion is echoed.
Filling the land with hope,
That soon the watering of the earth will appear.
But alas, you are no more as the heavenly windows open,
And as the thirsty land drinks her fill,
Your passionate silent calls are needed no more.
We bid thee farewell till next mother nature calls.
Categories:
living substance, bird, flower, metaphor, seasons,
Form: Free verse
LIKE A SEED ,
DROPPED INTO THE GROUND SPRINGS INTO ACTIVITY,
AND IN THE ACT, PRODUCES A HUNDRED MORE SEEDS,
I GET READY OF THE LAST VESTIGE OF THE OLD IDEA THAT I AM" POOR" !
LIKE EVERY LIVING THING, I'M THE ACT OF LIVING.
I NATURALLY INHERIT DESIRE OF A LIVING SUBSTANCE.
SUBSTANCE THAT MULTIPLIES AND`FOREVER BECOMES MORE.
I AM SUBJECT TO THE URGE OF LIFE.
I AM SEEKING EXPRESSION.
I WANTED TO KNOW MORE.
I AM SEEKING THE POWER TO MANIFEST ...
D E S I R E .
Categories:
living substance, inspirational
Form: Free verse