Long Convergence Poems
Long Convergence Poems. Below are the most popular long Convergence by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Convergence poems by poem length and keyword.
in-flight convergence
by Michael R. Burch
serene, almost angelic,
the lights of the city extend
over lumbering behemoths
shrilly screeching displeasure
they say:
that nothing is certain,
that nothing man dreams or ordains
long endures his command
here the streetlights that flicker
and those blazing steadfast
seem one: from a distance;
descend?
they abruptly
part ways
so that nothing is one
which at times does not suddenly blend
into garish insignificance
in the familiar alleyways,
in the white neon flash
and the billboards of Convenience
and man seems the afterthought of his own Brilliance
as we thunder down the enlightened runways
The Decade of Anchored Light: Living Rooted, Radiant, and Unapologetic
Dear 40s,
Now, I am 49 — about to leave you.
In my forties,
I stopped performing strength.
I began practicing peace.
No need to prove anything,
anymore.
They call it midlife crisis.
But you know what I think?
It’s choosing what finally fits —
even if it means letting go of everything that doesn’t.
I stopped arguing with clocks.
I stopped racing silence like it was a finish line.
I learned that rest isn’t laziness.
That letting go isn’t failure.
It is ok to rest
and even say “NO.”
I stopped rushing toward destinations that
drained me.
I stopped dancing for rooms that never clapped.
At forty-five,
I kept my joy private.
I stopped explaining my ‘softness.’
I started honoring it.
No need to explain.
Accept me or not . . .
I no longer needed applause to feel worthy.
I no longer feared solitude.
I became anchored . . .
not in certainty,
but in intention.
And the light I carry now?
It doesn’t flicker for attention.
It glows for legacy.
Financial independence didn’t arrive with fanfare;
it arrived with quiet choices,
with knowing I could walk away
and still be whole.
Job security wasn’t a title;
it was trust in my own consistency.
The kind built over years,
not moments.
Proficiency wasn’t perfection.
It was fluency in what matters.
It was knowing the rhythm of my own excellence.
And acceptance?
That was the hardest.
To look at my achievements
and not downplay them.
To say,
“Yes, I did that.”
Without shrinking.
Without apology.
In my forties,
I stopped auditioning for belonging.
I started living like I already belonged.
And that . . .
that was the beginning of peace.
(Published - Medium, The Healing Convergence Publication)
Written: December 24, 2025
************
In the hush-hollowed fold
of trembling being,
near the threshold
where daylight unthreads,
a lone verge
quivers luminous,
softened fervor
breathes.
Along the tangled rise
of fractured reverie,
spiraling yearning
tilts through muted currents,
a hidden interior
claimed uncarved
beneath dimming drift,
awaiting.
Across a barren span
the closing surge
stirs from within,
summoned toward
complete convergence
with boundless waters;
the last motion
rests in exalted quiet,
listening.
Immersed, overtaken
by dawn’s faint palette,
hunger sketches
unending mirage,
imprinting ceaseless outflow
that bears a radiant essence
toward a harbor of calm,
imagined.
Just when we chase after our dreams, a strange guest emerged
lurking behind the shadows of yesterday,
as it travels through borders everyone wish it would remain a foreign disease.
Soldiers sent out to fight this unseen enemy
choking the lungs of its preferred victims, oh! our countries,
leaving trails of devastation in all jurisdictions as though unstoppable
did I just hear you said it’s the new normal?
We, so far from those who're close to our heart
cause we're to fight this invisible virus behind close door.
ah, the ordeal of serving sentence in your own home,
I was even told to keep my distance, putting on my shield.
In all we’re supposed to dive in waters they’ll never deep their feet
In a time of global deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act.
Our gatekeepers for the policies
smiles so uncertain as though to reassure of absolute control
when in all essence shadow actor's footprint emerges.
drift away unanchored by the truth-wreck.
the wild wind of the plan-demic oops heard its pandemic,
is testing the resolved of humanity
whoa they said we’re all in this together.
The epidemiological profile of this virus
made nonsense of all apocalyptic predictions,
this tends to make me question their integrity with the truth
slipe-screen media report preaching the same damaging mechanism
with manipulated statistics far and wide.
it’s a convergence of these negative effect that birthed falsehood
yes fraud. This idea lacks careful consideration of humanity.
The associate cost of this bio-slaughter-lethal,
ultrasonic demolition of our socio-economic activities
stampeding our conscience to become nervous of even our family,
industrialized cities now, now on their knees with no flicker of hope.
with increasing volatility in every sector our world
yes, our nations under siege. A great reset indeed
In all we’re told to take the jabs even when obviously it doesn’t safeguard
some words are deemed too hallowed to be translated.
How many are realities? Is a question,
How many one actually wants? Is option?
Monism, like single-focus telescope, stands firm,
While dualism, like binoculars, less confirm...!
I who see the flower observe the bee as well,
That, like unidentified guest, within it dwell;
I focus on flower, yet, bee I don't ignore,
Bee and bloom are harmonious; in union soar...!
Absolute is one; from that utmost have all come,
Flies, bees, birds, animals, reptiles - those speak or dumb;
Existing in any habitat they do preach,
Of the truth, to which, these all ultimately reach...!
Multiplicity must give way to simplicity,
Souls-convergence should erase all complexity;
My body and soul are in me; I am in them;
If one has no life in it, won't thing turn mayhem...?
Universe is a gadget that gladly partakes,
The great principle of Brahma, who makes and breaks;
To diminish every divisibility,
And bring in indissoluble pure unity...!
Advaita - body-mind one - beings become whole,
Parmatma in atma dwells as a cosmic soul;
Can one remove blood from flesh or heat from fire?
Each in each one; all in all; Agape grows higher...!
10 August 2022
Non-dual awareness Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
From Makhaleng’s stone, from Thames’ steady beat,
A single rhythm stirs, a pulse grows strong—
O Sisters of the Soil and Sisters of the Street,
Your hour is come to dismantle ancient wrong.
We know the weight: the gourd, the grinding stone,
The quiet ledger balanced late alone,
The branded scars empires refuse to own.
Shall we be silent while the market’s hand
Sells childhood short and plunders every shore?
While truth is buried in the poisoned sand
And justice knocks upon a bolted door?
No. Let the kgotla’s wisdom find the air,
Let Parliament’s cold vault with echoes ring—
Two streams now rising in a single dare
To strip the armour from the faltering king.
So blend the strength—the sereto and the sonnet’s fire,
The drummer’s call, the bell from Tower’s height.
Weave from two strengths one unassailable choir
To drag this shivering century to light.
Let every cry for right, an anthem be,
A towering Baobab, a Sovereign Tree.
In the twilight of existence, where shadows murmur ancient secrets,
Two souls meet, drawn by the magnetic force of the cosmos,
An ethereal dance of love, primordial and infinite, unfolds once more,
Reborn in the tender caress of embodied whispers,
Hidden in the boundless vastness of the universe,
Their murmurs, a symphony of desire and sin,
Intertwine in the silent stillness of the starry sky,
Flowing into each other like rivers through the veins of time,
Their desires, a tremor that reverberates through the fabric of their being.
He, a fiery red, a flame burning with an unquenchable passion,
She, a pure white, a beacon of serene light,
Together they weave the intricate tapestry of memories,
Of early rains that kissed the earth with the breath of life,
And the love that blossomed among the finest silks of dreams.
In the labyrinthine corridors of their minds, they wander,
Lost in the echoing chambers of their thoughts,
Each moment, a fleeting glimpse of eternity,
Each touch, a bridge between unseen worlds,
Their love, a delicate dance of shadows and light,
A mystical play of contrasts, of red and white,
Of fire and purity, of sin and divine redemption.
Under the silent gaze of distant stars,
They remember the early rains of their lives,
The gentle patter of drops on skin,
The scent of reborn earth,
And in this memory, they find solace,
A reminder of the sacred beauty in their union,
Of the love that flows through their veins,
A love that transcends the ephemeral boundaries of existence,
A love that is at once tender and fierce,
Both sin and divine salvation.
As they dance, their souls entwined in a cosmic ballet,
They become one with the universe,
Their whispers, a part of the timeless symphony of the stars,
Their love, a radiant beacon in the vastness of darkness,
A testament to the mystical power of connection,
The magic of two souls meeting,
And in that celestial convergence, discovering eternity.
It's as fluid as water is wet overflowing with
plenty
& many have caught a glimpse of the well looking
to fill their chalice
A cup full of light floods the darkness to transform
the space bringing balance to something
now more suitable to view
Ripples in the fabric turn to waves ushering one to
shores that are new
& a new Aeon emerges that is in harmony with
the convergence
More than a few things run through the mind when
trying to elucidate ones lucid
thoughts as streams continue
to cascade & collide
Explosive epiphanies as powerful as landmines blow
ones mind in this new paradigm
as dimensions of self that once
existed cease to be
Some become jaded as their old sense of ME that
was once so comfortable is no more
Being forced to explore a different state of being
is uncomfortable at first glance
but the new view must be given a chance
Drink deeply & be full as you've waited eons
for the chance to advance past
limited & primitive ways
of old
You've arrived at a place that is no longer
accepting of your dining on thoughts
of the past
as new tables have been set with new
courses & paradigms at last
You'll shine here & everything will be as crystal
clear as the waters of life that
flow to & fro oh so fast
Blossom of baby's breath,soft white gorse,crusted yellow, weeping willow rush patterned lace pastures a pastel green.Buttercup,daisy&comely cowslip mingle
&mix in fellowship swaying pelts of grass with purple vetch & ribwortplantain, clover in English rain.Scabious,burnets buttefliesand bees hawthorn and scented woodruff.Briar brambles sprawl,in dogrose so tall above harts-tongue The thinking eye,the abstract made visible a spatial convergence ,now liberated.
Imaginary ,incomplete feelings,beacons of vivacity,profound and positive.Intense inner sounds,a polyphony,the poet's soul,unfazed&free.Seabank with scattered seaweed & feathery fennel in aniseed;Alexander’s leaves so green this tender cusine.Welcome wholesome fat hen,vibrant shoots the vimen in Lamb’s lettuce in Jack-in-the-hedge in wild radish,cress&chive,where majoram &sweet cicely thrive.Seabeet,and chard also survive.Wild parsnip the confectioner,tansy to savour.Stinging nettles so green,peppermint oil pick-me-up, in coltsfoot syrup cup.
The leaves are falling, falling, enriching
cool of fall season. Shades of fiery red,
yellow, gold, emitting light; bewitching
green summer leaves. Wondrous mystical bed
a time of windblown beauty gone and fled.
The past forgotten upon umber boughs
which shudder left disrobed, misbegotten.
A new beginning, a new smile endows
nature's convergence. Up comes the cotton
spun and woven into cloth, not boughten.
Wailing chill of long hours of Halloween.
Scrumptious Thanksgiving aromas, feasting
with loved ones. Time full of gladness between
new birth of a child and birthdays lasting
smiles. Season of rainy days were jesting.
9/13/2018