Long Glaciers Poems
Long Glaciers Poems. Below are the most popular long Glaciers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Glaciers poems by poem length and keyword.
Come O rain come, throw your showers
On this part of earth and do not run
All the simple inhabitants of our villages, towns and cities
Are waiting for you with tears in their eyes
Come O rain come, throw your showers sublime
On fields, soil, animals, trees and birds flying
Even the trees and birds, animals and herds, Human and insects
All are gloomy and sad, with rankles on foreheads
With worries on their faces, as their hopes are getting buried
Without a shower to wipe their rolling tears from eyes
Come O rain come, throw your showers
On this part of earth and do not run
I know, why you are offended and not listening our prayer
But the animals and birds, our simple villagers, animal herds
Even fields drying up in excessive heat do not know
Why you are offended and not listening their prayers
Oh pardon them as they do not know
The misdeeds of those, who are spreading cities
And are cutting trees, forest and are eliminating fields
In the name of modern living
They go on spreading cities after cities
And industries after industries
These less blessed species of humans, do not want to know
The priceless value of mother earth
And the value of each drop of water and rain
Which comes due to green mountains and glaciers
Trees and plants, fields and ponds,
Lakes and rivers, they all are the
Darling children of the God of Rains.
To appease you O God of Rains
We are making our prayers with folded hands
You are and you were always our dearest
O God of Rains, on you we have offered our prayers
And have offered since ages our songs and lyrics
And even our heart and souls
Come O rain come, throw your showers
On this part of earth and do not run
The soil of earth and air also is boiling with heat
The birds and animals and all living creatures
Are waiting with their tired eyes on sky
To search a piece of clouds, which can extinguish their fire
With showers on their fields, plants and trees
Bless them O God of Rains, with your sublime drops of rains
Ravindra
Written on 24th June 09 originally in Hindi as a prayer Song
When draught like conditions were seen in a part of my state.
Translated in English with changes and some additions on 5th Dec.09
Incidentally God heard the prayer of someone and
From June end onwards God of Rains blessed us with good Rains.
Kanpur India 5th December 2009
In the mystery of the night, when stars sneak stealthily through the branches,
nothing has changed, and the body, that ephemeral vessel, still knows how to weep,
susceptible to pain, like a flower under the burden of cold,
the sky hums its eternal song, and we, prisoners of breath,
with thin skin and blood boiling beneath it, are but shadows
in the eternal dance of time, with bones breaking
under the unforgiving weight of history repeating itself.
Nothing has changed, although the earth seems smaller,
and everything that happens feels close, like a whisper
beyond the wall, and the body still trembles,
as if it always had,
before Rome, before Christ,
the same silent scream, the same echo of suffering,
a symphony of innocence, spanning the ages,
uncomprehended, yet ever-present.
Nothing has changed, only the number of people has grown,
and with them, the offenses, new and old, real and imagined,
but the cry of the body, that visceral response,
remains unchanged, a melody in ancestral tones,
that binds us to our ancestors,
that movement of hands trying to shield the head,
the same gesture, the same falls,
knees rising, skin turning blue,
a dance of pain repeating into eternity.
Nothing has changed, only the boundaries have been redrawn,
the lines of forests, coasts, deserts, and glaciers,
and the soul, that tireless wanderer,
loses and finds itself among them,
a stranger to itself, illusory, often unsure of its own existence,
while the body is, is, and is, without its own place,
a nomad of time, lost between heartbeats
and the whispers of the wind constantly calling it back.
And yet, in this landscape of melancholy and dreaming,
nothing has changed, only we, the dreamers,
lose ourselves in the flow of consciousness, in search of solace
that never comes, just shadows of dreams
intertwining with reality,
while the body remains, ever-present,
a memory of what was and what will be.
My jaunt through over crowded hallways
past bodies grouped like gulls gathering
a grey murmuring
patients on overdose
their creased faces like glaciers streaked
by warming
pink white rings that circle their eyes
rabbit pinched
unfocused
glances not easily discarded
Henry, slumped in his wheelchair
his body uncoupled like a skylark
cut from song
thin shoulders falling to trembling limbs
He greets me, barely audible
words that leave soft traces
that sometimes choke on their own silence
What oozes forth,
fragmented stories of acting on the stage
till footlights dimmed
Time vandalized history
Roots in a cushioned land
Beseeching, he asks "Roll my wheelchair to the
train tracks. Leave me there."
Panic closes in like shutters
to darken the wood of smiling
I wedge words, can brook no paths criminal
A quick embrace to soothe unmoored grief
to appease the unprotected
My blunt exit (slowed momentum)
on floor stickiness,
waste-brine that coats my soles
anchoring displacement
Poem revised June 9, 2021
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Willows weep in the morning sun.
Roots write braille onto buried rocks.
Each ring a witness to droughts, floods~
observer of seasonal tides.
Willows weep in the morning sun.
Sap pulses slow as glaciers melt~
veins map stories untranslated
by wind, beetle, or human sighs.
Willows weep in the morning sun.
Underground, fungal threads ignite
enzymatic cries for kinship~
networks flaring like neural stars.
Willows weep in the morning sun.
Sunrise cracks the bark; forest breathes
oxygenated confession~
We have always known how to wait.
in faces lined like glaciers
sometimes there's loneliness
that cuts a tow line to safety
air of flux and hostility
over dazed eyes
turbulent modernity
sometimes we yearn for elegance
like a warm shoulder
its edge of acceptance
fitted with precision
yearn to heal a heart in straight jacket pain
to know motivation that punches above the weight
of a fragile frame
to relish the faith of a welcoming hand
to find a community
that bends the bar of one's cage into bracelets
shuffled like a deck of cards
lives seldom remain still
yearning to break an existence slurred by off color jokes
reaching for an unseeable light
a homeward wish
smothering woe
In the Bluebird of Happiness
at Klutina Kate's
the rain dances
splatting the metal roof
and dribbling down the windows
Never expected to find comfort
in an old bus
but I sleep well here
Didn't expect to be here
Didn't expect to belong here
Yep, where the northern lights play
it's turning gold
I'll saddle up before it turns white
journey back through the Yukon
and make my way south for
Christmas in Florida
Or Australia
I just wanted to see some caribou
Didn't know I'd make friends
Caribou, moose, bear,
glaciers, tundra, and snow-capped peaks
there have been plenty
but they're not what I'll come back for
On every highway and byway
beauty overwhelms
but it's deep in the heart too
the kind I'd run from
Not anymore
Creature by creature even leaf by leaf
the diverse world we knew is being stripped;
stripped by wind, by fire, by acid beneath,
dissolved in the seas. Polar ice has dripped,
glaciers slipped, forests are ripped. Companion
creatures now displaced, with no sheltered lair,
are exposed by humankind's expansion;
laid on an altar of growth. Do we care?
Last Thursday as we stripped the Altar bare
to mark the passion of our Saviour Lord,
other creatures crucified formed my prayer.
Can ripped and stripped creation be restored?
If we who've trashed God's gifts and caused such pain
showed our sorrow, would he trust us again?
The cry of an eagle floats across a distant peak,
bear tracks visible in the Spring thawing snow
Sunlight, spreading its dance upon the land,
the Ponderosa Pine and Aspen in bloom
The glaciers look down smiling the higher you climb,
searching for that redemption never offered below
The wolf trails the hare back inside its snowy den,
the road to all new entry having now been cleared
Permission never asked for, granted, as the music starts,
it’s early May in the Rockies—the January of renewal
In a celebration of new life, flowers wrap the landscape like ribbon,
tying close the promises as good wishes on a Christmas morning
It’s springtime even on the highest peak, and old questions lost of meaning
now seem gone away...
Reborn in the arrival of yet another desperate beginning
—holding nothing back
(Columbia Falls Montana: September, 2003)
A stalled monsoon trough over central Nepal
caused continuous torrential heavy rainfall
Slopes pushed up moisture from the Bay of Bengal
The catastrophe was looming large to befall.
Sudden breach of a moraine dam
Triggered Glacial Lake outburst floods
A surge of water and debris devastates
downstream, catching communities off guard.
Landslides continued to collapse slopes,
forming temporary dams that later burst
Steep valleys amplified runoff swift and fast
Flood of fury of all time unleashed the worst.
A compound climate disaster of twin sciences
Meteorology and geology to decipher in depth
monsoon extremes, unstable glaciers, terrain hazards
Perished hundreds of lives and left many homeless.
Sparse sensors, lack of predictive models a curse
Warrant real time glacial monitoring at source
With closely spaced weather station networks
And cross border early warning systems
…….Narayan Gadagkar
Last summer I enjoyed a dream vacation,
when I was filled to the brim with satisfaction.
I made a trip to the lofty heights of the Sikkim Himalaya,
where I got what I searched for, the feeling of euphoria.
Iridescent sky descended with an aquamarine lid,
from frozen heights azure glaciers glided down to feed.
a pristine lake I saw encased within a quiet basin,
over its mirror-like waters, stillness wafted in air thin.
Nature painted a divine scene I saw on that vacation,
while by the lake I stood soaked in joy and exultation.
Crystalline waters exuded the calmness I sought,
my body in placid reflection my eyes caught.
On calm waters I perceived the essence of my entity,
feeling content, I found a place of tranquility.
The lake water was so very clear and so virgin,
looking at its depth was like plunging deep within.
Abating my mental pangs, venting agony from abyss,
my serene soul floated in the ecstasy of fluid bliss.
In enchanting loneliness the few days I spent,
I reckoned as the precious gift God had sent.
That was the trip I’m glad I took, for I found a new me,
etched indelibly in the memory, till the end I’ll see.