Long Communed Poems
Long Communed Poems. Below are the most popular long Communed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Communed poems by poem length and keyword.
Once upon a time in Erin land,
the sun smiled on the people
the rains communed peacefully with thunderstorms
Erin flowed with palm wine and palm oil,
And her children drank to their fill
Oba Adeniran, was a great king,
loved by both the gods and his people.
Providence favored Oba Adeniran
Oba Adeniran had two healthy sons.
Now, Oba Adeniran must name a heir out of his two sons,
Or, he may lose the throne upon his demise.
The happy Oba had no worries.
His two sons were hale and hearty.
Omo-oba Adedayo loved his younger brother above all;
but he was nothing like his father in nature.
To him, the throne is his birthright,
So also are beautiful women and sweet wine.
Omo-oba Adegboye unlike his elder brother, was a hater of law and lover of war.
He too wanted the throne and so spilled his father's blood,
Somehow by providence, his mother and brother escaped.
He’d crossed the thin line between love and hate
Omo-oba Adedayo raged with vengeance.
He must avenge his father and reclaim his rightful throne
He rallied allies and built an army
His mother scraped her knees, and washed his feet with warm tears of love
But he won't yield to her plea for peace and truce.
It's better to forgive and rebuild, than to revenge and perish, she warned
Too late, the battle had begun.
The two princes came upon themselves
One fighting a just course and the other fighting a lost course.
He who lived by the sword, died by the sword
The good prince defeated his younger brother, and reclaimed his possession.
The queen mourned for months.
Husband and son dead, yet the throne lived
The victorious prince celebrated his victory with wine and women.
Thence, the die was cast, he must be crowned.
But then, tradition must take it's due course.
No coronation for a king who has no heir.
Omo-Oba Adedayo must beget a heir
Years upon years went bye, but no cry of a baby
Alas, Omo-oba Adedayo has a dead manhood.
A disease, his souvenir from women and Alcohol.
Now, the crown must move on, to another bloodline.
And it happened once upon a morning
Erin land awoke to see Omo-oba Adedayo’s body dangling from a tree
A deliberate escape from the shame of failure.
Till date, no one either remembers Oba Adeniran
Or any of his two foolish sons.
But then, the crown lives on, and has never been forgotten.
For God so loved this sinful world, He gave us all His son;
That we might live with Him one day, when life on Earth is done.
No greater love was ever known, no greater gift bestowed,
And for the love He sacrificed, no greater debt’s been owed.
The time was short for Jesus Christ, but what He gave mankind
To lift our hearts and save our souls has yet to be refined.
The grace and style in which He moved through politics and fools,
Has paved the way for paths we trod through worldly ways and rules.
His teachings spread throughout the land, His miracles renowned,
He only had to touch a life to show His love was sound.
Two thousand years have come and gone since Christ communed with man;
And with his dying saved us all, to serve God's ancient plan.
He rose from death, as He had said, and proved His word was true,
That life eternal waited those who choose to suffer through.
Salvation came that fateful day, the Bible tells us so;
And time has shown that through God’s love the weakest spirits grow.
Now, modern times are hard on us and cause us all to doubt,
For change is there at every turn, and Satan’s always out.
It’s now we need the love of God, for always, as before;
Just lift your heart and ask for it, and see what lays in store.
It’s through God’s love we handle change and how it makes us strong
In ways we deal with worldly things and sort the right from wrong.
For change is just another way the Lord sees fit to use
To make our days seem fresh and new with paths to take and choose.
It’s by our faith we live our lives and seek a brighter day,
And how we find the confidence when doubts get in the way.
But most of all it’s happiness that faith’s been known to give
When our misfortunes come to cloud these modern times we live.
We need not fear what God has wrought. We need not know His plan.
We only need to know He’s there, and love’s in store for man.
Just think the words you’d ask in prayer, and ere a sound be heard,
His perfect love will fill your heart before you’ve breathed a word.
No greater love was ever known, no greater gift bestowed,
And for the love He sacrificed, no greater debt’s been owed.
But God forgave our debt to Him, we live in grace today;
The greatest love you’ve ever known is just a breath away.
Raising holy hands up unto the sky, we praise thee Lord Jesus whom is glorified!
As heirs to the promise onward we forge, children of covenant upon eternal shores.
Confessing salvation in “The Word” now conceived: a path for tomorrow that‘s truly free!
Divine in direction as the Holy Ghost leads, no more to sorrow in Gods' love now retrieved…
And sanctifi - - ied, sanctifi - - ied, sanctifi - - ied:
by the blood of the Lamb we‘ve been sanctified!
Sanctified from the lust of flesh,
sanctified unto true holiness.
Sanctified in His peace and love:
its Jehovah Shalom we speak of..!
Lord Jesus it’s unto thee we bow,
in the glorious presence of your power.
Faithful and chosen are those who believe:
blood redeemed out of this world that has fallen…
Casting off life’s worries in Gods' peace to abide, justified freely by grace sanctified.
Through redemption in Christ Jesus ransom is paid, His Holy Spirit now leads the way!
Communed in a holy transition beyond-ward to soar, finding a gladness unknown before.
Becoming the reflection of our Savior adored, lost in unspeakable happiness forevermore..!
And sanctifi - - ied, sanctifi - - ied, sanctifi - - ied:
by the blood of the Lamb we’ve been sanctified!
Sanctified unto His righteousness;
"Alleluia" Jehovah M’Kaddesh!
Sanctified in the King of kings,
of His goodness all creation sings.
Lord Jesus whom is here and now,
given you is all the glory and the power.
Kneeling before thee by faith we receive:
that jubilantly blessed sound of your voice calling…
Brother Christian
October 9 Scripture Meditations Based on Luke 24
Key Verse – Luke 24:15 And it came to pass, that, while they communed together and reasoned, Jesus himself drew near, and went with them.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR DRAWING YOURSELF NEAR ME
Thank You for drawing Yourself near me, pardoning my confessed guiltiness
Indeed sanctifying me with Your salvation-righteousness
For my soul to strive for holiness’ peacefulness
In consciously pleasing You through faith of good works’ thoroughness.
Thank You for drawing Yourself near me, humbling my arrogance
Indeed abasing me with Your redemption-deliverance
For my heart to subdue vanity’s extravagance
In calmly submitting to You through meekness’ sustenance.
Thank You for drawing Yourself near me, correcting my flawed faculty
Indeed disciplining me with Your authoritative immutability
For my diligence to overcome quality’s mediocrity
In consistently trusting You through willing sacrifices’ sincerity.
Thank You for drawing Yourself near me, subduing my frustration
Indeed encouraging me with Your gladness-jubilation
For my faith to vanquish failures’ exhaustion
In ceaselessly seeking You through genuine servanthood’s dedication.
Thank You for drawing Yourself near me, brightening up my worship
Indeed meeting me with Your assurance-friendship
For my prayer life to delight in Your offered relationship
In closely enjoying with You Your fellowship along spirited worship.
Thank You for drawing Yourself near me, propelling my determined labouring
Indeed ministering unto me with Your presence-nurturing
For my efforts to bear fruits of life-building’s rearing
In continuously honouring You through faithful character’s gearing.
Thank You for drawing Yourself near me, upholding my serene victory
Indeed propping me with Your sanctification against transgression-misery
For my good success to reflect Scripture-favor’s glory
In cheerfully prioritizing You through obedient submission’s story.
October 9, 2022
She loved our First Nation Cafe
from the primal blessed moment
just before she first could not yet think
of this cooperatively-owned communal place.
As other than some sacred space
She has liturgically revisited
and faithfully communed each starlight night
within secular developing
Right hand prominent wombs.
It felt right and left good
that everyone she saw blending local grown organic juices
fueled by fresh air-turbine bikes
pedaled by consumers
drinking juice from outside
community cooperative garden beds
fertile through compost from FairShare coffee grounds
brewed right there
All cooperatively honeyed
pollinated
owned and self-managed
by those who blend nurturing waters
fueling healthy blood
heart and mind and embodied
by those who heart pump the bikes
and therapeutically mind step the hydro-milling anthemed steppers
and build green capturing solar panels outside
and sing
and dance
and improvise farming and gardening and incubation networks
tell bold new creation love stories
share organically resilient skill sets
cook and preserve local nutrition harvests
design and play WinWin on-line and off-line
deep learning green-STEM Games.
This First Nation Cafe re-creation place
feels like cooperative organic network space
for liberally loving ecoconsumers
and ego-conserving health producers
to ecoschool
and ecovillage
eco/theo-logical after school
and on through each vespered late night regeneration
candle lit inside
star lit campfire outside
nights of lovely ultra-violent FullMoon
through NewMoon full-shadowed integrity
of water-bears
and their synergetic spear-carriers.
He lived this First Nation Cafe
from primal blessed first cooperative moment
just before she first could not yet charge intuition
for this cooperatively-owned communal place
of mutual Wonder.
I
In Matthew 6: 9-13 is a prayer of 66 words. These 66 words include the above CAPITALIZED words in my title for this Post. But a coincidence I point out to Bible study candidates is that Old & New Testaments comprise 66 BOOKS. One may juxtapose 66 words in the LORDS PRAYER with 66 books that make up the popular Protestant bible
II
God will never lead us to temptation s. This should help every Christ follower. We allow temptations because of our human or fleshly lusts. Satan capitalizes on our imperfect motives. God Creator or Jesus knows us, what clay vessels we are, but He says through Paul we are His valuable master pieces, too. In 2 Corinthians 4, we read: we have tHis (this and HIS) TREASURE in earthen vessels ..." But on the LORDS Prayer, we need to say just a bit on the TWO versions, the more famous is Matthew 6: and verses 9-13. The other is Luke 11.
III.
"Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples." This is the first verse in Luke 11, which permitted Jesus to gift all of us - but the 12 Disciples first - with the illustrious LORDS Prayer. No apostrophe. Jesus did pray. More than anyone ever, though He communed with Father God, not asking for food or "help Me learn forgiveness as I've been forgiven my sins." But we do. Still, it is Our LORDS PRAYER to help us own some of our birthright: the disciple asked, referred to John teaching his disciples. Why is this in the Bible? Learn, sir or Madame, there are no insignificant word or jots and tittle in the bible. I'll explain this tomorrow, LORD WILLING. But if U are a berwan bible study person, see Matthew chapter 14, fir fact that Jesus prayed at least 9 hours straight, after feeding thousands with a single boys lunch. Till we meet in the lord's graces. Tomorrow, SHALOM shalom
(For My Younger Self)
You have forgotten your muse.
You neglected her, in the hustle and bustle
of city life, in trying to carve a niche,
driving yourself too hard -
thinking it could make you rich.
She grieves.
Don’t you see her? She grieves.
How she longs to reunite with you
but you are far too busy, with everything new.
Too unmindful, too steeped in the practical
your change was so radical;
Too pragmatic, everything has become automatic.
You have lost touch with your muse,
no matter how she pleads you have become obtuse.
When will you reach into the softer,
more introspective part of yourself?
Please do not say, never.
Remember how you would write through the night
and people around you would wonder why…
Those moments were priceless,
the times you communed with words so ageless
as you poured onto paper all your emotions -
In the night, you would write of happiness and pain,
of a young love, and of your simple dreams.
Go back to those simple dreams.
Do not allow yourself to be lost
in the conundrum that is Life.
Step back, take stock, be still.
Find time for meditation, there is no condemnation
for those who acknowledge the need for salvation.
And as you find that inner peace,
write once more.
Write, and write some more.
Set free all those words that have long been kept
within your heart…the happy words, the sad words,
words both simple and intricate
that a reader will enjoy as he masticates
the meaning, the lesson, the joy and young wisdom.
Let your words dance…let your words s o a r !
31 October 2015
Poem of the Day 01 November 2015
Awarded 1st Place - What Would You Say Contest
a songbird beloved who moves with intention
will find themselves in times of trouble
mother mary on their bustier—
a sight for those with the privilege to see.
stands on a paddleboard oaring towards me.
embodies a world full of pain in their bones
and their muscles and mind—
the will of some force that’s beyond understanding
waiting for a note to attune to and decides
while they wait they will sing anyway;
it helps them to be.
i hope you never stop singing, my sweet bumblebee.
i enter the conversation with gentle movements
loving sweet nothings sweet somethings substantial
i love them i love them so radiant gentle
no one could deserve them as they sing determinedly.
we sit on the dock by the lake and share stories and
secrets and heartwants and troubles
and worries and stressors and loves
from the six years or three years or
too many seconds since we last communed with the
spirits of nature or aliens telling us
to save the planet and stop making bombs can’t we
all love each other we hold hands and
cry when we need to and lie on the ground and do
stretches and quietly sing and make tea.
we have faith the ginger and turmeric lemon and leaves will help
soothe the hum in the background of long covid—the chronic
experience—life in and out of high levels of pain
we’ve adjusted to, sleeping and stretching
a cascade of moves through the hours to assuage the
pain we express and choose not to repress
we decenter we manage we bargain with, converse with—
that we embody.
we choose to live life melodiously.
O'Sweet immutable night, come and embrace me, for it is because of great vexation that I have communed with my heart and soul.
O'Sweet immutable night, it is with true sorrow of the iniquity and vanity done under the sun that I seek the comfort of the night to be consoled.
O'Sweet immutable night for it is my languishing heart that I wish to escape the pollution of the evil inflicted spoils of mankind.
O'Sweet immutable night, propitiate my mangled mind.
O'Sweet immutable night, let not my weary soul be susceptible to the failings of another day of limitless debauchery.
O'Sweet immutable night, I beseech you to claim my yearning spirit with your compelling offer of release so that in my inwardly pining I will be free.
O'Sweet immutable night, let not my flesh again feel the burning desires of the sun.
O'Sweet immutable night, let not my eyes see, nor my ears hear the suffering of the weak in this world of rigorous agony being spun.
O'Sweet immutable night, let my burning compassion for justice cool under the unceasing comfort of generosity.
O'Sweet immutable night, let not another day that my body be a sapling bending to the implacable winds of injustice and atrocity.
O'Sweet immutable night, let the flesh of my body fall to the dry earth and not under the sun.
O'Sweet immutable night, let it be done let it be done.
O'Sweet immutable night, let not the memories of affliction impede me from this good night.
O'Sweet immutable night, let me rest here for the sunder of the holy rapture and the holy night.
copyright 2017Looking At The Light From The Bottom Of The Lake.
"Upon this rock I will build My Church!"
There it perched upon a bluff high above New England's rugged shore.
Its glass-stained windows, now shuttered, were closed forever more.
What once had been a vibrant house of worship now stands forlorn,
Surrounded by wind-swept cedars, a few wild roses and brambly thorn.
'Twas during a Sunday morning stroll that I came upon this pastoral scene.
A congregation of one, I communed with the past on what once had been.
I felt a kindred spirit with those now gone as I mused about times of yore,
And listened to the soughing winds and the oceans booming roar!
I pictured 'all day meetin's with dinner on the grounds' by the congregation.
I could sense the pastor's sermons dealing with the devil and damnation!
In my mind's eye I saw happy brides and grooms on their wedding day,
And little children reciting The Golden Rule and learning how to pray!
I saw happy families arriving on Christmas Eve by horse drawn sleigh,
To enjoy the candlelight service and the Sunday school Nativity Play!
The old church must have also been a beacon of hope for seafaring souls,
Who after sailing upon the billowing seas neared those treacherous shoals!
A long-abandoned graveyard with moss-covered stones was situated nearby.
Alas, names etched upon the stones were eroded and many stood awry.
Though long forgotten by man, He knows the names of each and every soul,
And they'll join Him with the elect when Gabriel sounds that triumphant roll!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 2 in Constance's "The Church By The Ocean" Contest - October 2011