Long Line of inquiry Poems
Long Line of inquiry Poems. Below are the most popular long Line of inquiry by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Line of inquiry poems by poem length and keyword.
Line of inquiry from Unseeking Seeker:
"discarding narrow thought flow crutch
we learn directly by soft touch
and what we garner we relay
to the vast void in childlike play
entwined thus with the universe
we dance without need to rehearse"
_______________________________________________
Ahhh, Spontaneity! How wonderful it is.
It separates adults from children more often than not.
It’s that magical quality which often seems to me
that some people in their older age simply have forgot!
Spontaneity . . . Maybe it’s the essence of authenticity
when you can be yourself and say exactly what you think.
Maturity can keep us from being much too blunt,
yet spontaneity can be subtle like a winsome wink.
Spontaneity . . .Imagine yourself when young.
How easily you laughed; how happily you simply played.
Sadly, it’s not that way for kids from homes of terror,
yet I hope that most of us recall impulsiveness we once displayed.
Did you hop onto your bike, riding anywhere without a care?
Did you ever jump into a pond where tadpoles swam -
trying to catch them while cupping them in your small hands?
Did you grab an apple off a neighbor’s tree, then have to scram?
Did you play with tiny cars or trucks, causing them to crash?
Did you pretend your doll was you and then converse
with your best friend’s dolly as if that doll were her?
Did you make up little plays you never did rehearse?
I did all those things and more. It was a different time.
I could run, play ball, and all through town I’d roam
with friends or siblings. How we laughed and had such fun.
It was not till darkness fell we even would go home.
Today kids have to be more careful, yet I see them play
showing imagination like when as a child I did.
Were you like me, and do you ever dream about today
those fascinating things that you dreamed of as a kid?
Unfortunately as adults, we have a lot of rules.
Rule are necessary, but we must not let
the rigidity of them replace the joy of having fun.
The inner child in all of us we must not forget.
Spontaneity . . . Reclaim what you may have lost.
Calm your mind; lighten up; laugh and smile more.
Embrace creative thinking; be as honest as you can.
The child inside of you is one you never should ignore!
Written: August 16, 2025, for contest by Unseeking Seeker
Line of inquiry:
"conjoined with the whole - we play our life role
exuding a scent - granting love consent"
************
Conjoined with the Whole
Not as sovereigns,
but as sylphlike strands,
woven into a ductile tapestry—
Each act of kindness forges
a bond within the communal consciousness.
Love is not a shadowy incantation,
nor a glamour to inveigle us into isolation.
It is hortatory, beckoning forth...
a rosy summons to convene,
amid the clangor of squalor and sojourn
to supplant the slipshod ache
with a warm intention.
We are not mere wanderers
adrift in nebulous vacuum—
We are emulous embers,
thirsting for the amaranthine,
avid to imbue our days,
with seraphic resonance.
Community is not a chimera,
It is pavonine in its iridescent truth,
multivocal in its sweet sorrow,
edacious for connection
but never laden with avarice.
We do not dismiss the burden—
We collocate it, we share it
withdraw from silence,
and cast aside the Icarus myth,
a tale of solitary flight,
Even the untamed child.
crumbles for the quest of kinship—
Even the weary elder winnows,
the soothing balm of a neighbor’s touch.
Love sanctions its courtliness—
not merely a whispered sigh,
but as a philanthropic deed,
a calyx protruding,
amid the clamor of desire.
To love is to be an iconoclast
to find solace in a gentle embrace—
to forbear the yearning
to anathematize others
to witness the evocative elysian—
in the eyes of the distraught.
We are not aphonic.
We are harmonious,
even in our disconsolate times.
We are evocative, full of meaning,
even when our souls feel drained.
And when we reflect,
We accomplish this together—
in the emollient of shared grief,
in the soothing touch of shared joy.
So let us frolic with abandon,
Let us explore the hidden meadows of our lives.
Let us gather in our joy,
transcendent in our understanding,
Our sense of self is transient.
Let us be love—
not as an elusive dream,
but a tangible act.
Let us be united with the whole.
And play our life roles.
with eloquence
vibrancy,
and grace.
"Line of inquiry: given that we are a soul having a human experience, reincarnating life after life and that too with memory of past lives erased each time we take birth, what is the purpose of this exercise?"
Sponsor - Unseeking Seeker
Often have I pondered this question.
Still, I don’t really know.
Is it merely to populate the earth?
We are not protecting or even feeding the population we have,
This cannot be the reason.
Some believe that our succession of lives, enables us to be better with each new life.
We cannot remember our last life, so how can we learn from it?
This can’t be the reason.
Maybe its to ensure progress on this earth.
So, we can each be instrumental in the progression of mankind,
With Inventions, discoveries, breakthroughs in medicine, science, engineering, and commerce.
However, it is only a few that achieve such accomplishments.
So that does not explain why we all get a chance of reincarnation.
Another conundrum I have is if I am a Republican in one life, will I come back as a Democrat in the next? If I am a male chauvinist, will I come back as a woman and if I am a racist, will I come back in a minority class? Are we here merely to equal the scales?
My next ponderance is this: If there are 8 billion people on earth today, there won’t be enough people from past lives to replace all 8 billion, because there were not 8 billion people last year.
New people must be created to make up the numbers.
If not the population would never increase.
I am afraid I have not answered my own questions.
One thing I do know is why I am here in this life.
I am here to have nurtured my parents in their old age.
Their combined age made the 94 years that they were older than me at the time of my birth.
I am here to have loved a man in marriage for 52 years and with him raised three wonderful human beings.
I am here to have friends and family I care about.
I am here to give thanks to my Incredible Maker Who has given me strength and fortitude to overcome evil and to be joyous in the wonders life has afforded me.
I am just one of the 8 billion, and I do know why I am here this time.
OUR EFFERVESCENCE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Line of inquiry: "conjoined with the whole we play our life role exuding a scent granting love consent.
Marcus had a secret only a few of the townspeople knew. His touch could coax the most stubborn of seeds to sprout and the most withered of plants to bloom. The scent he exuded was reputed to be mystical, one imbued with a powerful blend of love and consent, one of divine affection and unity. His was not mere gardening prowess; it was a divinely given gift and one that shaped his life in ways he’d not imagined as a young boy.
On a hot summer afternoon, Elara—lost and withered looking—wandered into Marcus’ garden. He gave her a cup of sparkling water, its cooling effervescence refreshing her. A drop of it spilt on a wilted daisy. To Elara’s amazement, its petals immediately unfurled, revealing a bright yellow center.
Confounded, Elara asked Marcus, "How can you possibly do that? I don’t understand."
He hesitated, unsure if she could actually understand. "It's a gift from the Divine," he said, "a sparkling effervescence similar to that found in the pure waters of the nearby stream. It’s one given to those who wish to connect with their souls.”
A puzzled Elara continued visiting Marcus, over time her curiosity growing and her worldly fears dissipating. Although a loner, Marcus welcomed her believing their connection was divinely ordained.
“We are conjoined not by flesh,” he began one day,
“but by the Divine, sharing the Holy Spirit—
an effervescence, a sacred bond.
Severing this holy bond
invites disconnection and decay
much like a withering leaf on autumn’s breath.
But when conjoined, this sacred space,
wraps itself around us all,
a warm, aromatic shawl.
We are filled with the fragrance of unity,
satisfying surrender, perfumed purpose, and
the sweet aroma of unconditional Love.
When we listen and sup with the Divine,
we’re nourished by the alchemy of this connection,
the effervescent champagne of life, bubbling with Love.
Encourage, nay, celebrate this unity,” dear one,
“this sacred conjoining of all that is,
and all that ever will be.”
Line of Inquiry
“I wasn’t sure what it was he said but it meant a lot to me.”
When there was still daylight lingering,
And the wind was upon the leaves,
And every leaf trembled at its touch,
On my balcony, I lazily sat.
My mind strayed like a vagabond,
Through the strange terrains of dreams,
Never settling anywhere,
Hovering over myriad things.
I was on the fringe of another world,
Idly watching the shadows chasing the light,
And the autumn clouds scurrying past ,
In endless quest across the sky.
Feeling the breath of passing breeze
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there,
In my trance, did I hear a grating sound?
Yes, a shut window opened somewhere near.
It was in the house opposite to mine.
In dim light, I saw a masculine figure behind the veil
A panther crouching under the foliage of a forest!
On that golden dusk, his eyes gleamed,
Sending out piercing shafts.
His eyes had the shine of a thousand stars
And in an instant, they got locked in mine
I don’t know what made me take my violin.
As I moved my fingers on its strings,
From it, flowed a sweet song of love.
I saw him rising slowly from where he sat
And coming closer, he parted the curtain
And smiled at me a gentle seductive smile.
From his sealed lips, some words escaped
As if proclaiming aloud- ‘I love you’!
I didn’t hear what he said, yet it meant so much to me.
I fell into a swoon, knew a sweet sensation
Creeping into me, drowning me inch by inch
We were so close, only eyelids away
And how I wished to be meshed into him!
I knew that in the depths of my sentient heart,
He made his permanent residence!
For long I carried the memory,
Of his passionate glance, seductive smile and sweet words,
Thrown across to me from an open window,
On a mild windy night of song, silence and shadows.
Again and again, it awakened in me,
A wistful longing, I hardly could resist,
Until it became a picture frozen in time.
On that gathering dusk lit in golden glow
Did he rob me in secret and carry me unawares,
On the languid wings of his honeyed words?
Or when he broke open that window,
Did he break open my heart too,
And enter it unbidden?
Line of inquiry:
“since thoughts speak in past tenses,
drop mind, rely on senses,
embracing and releasing,
pain pangs and pleasure pleasing”
My thoughts are swimming against the current,
seeking, ever searching for threads into the past
that will seamlessly stitch them with the present
as though they were sewn by the hand of God.
I laud my memories, fondly embracing each of them
as they illuminate the faces of loved ones.
I still hear their laughter, dry their tears of sorrow,
remembering when I turned their frowns into smiles.
But in reminiscing of the past, I cannot live.
I hope each tomorrow will make me more aware
of how to release pain to gain more pleasure in life.
It's like the shedding leaves of a Maple tree
in the days of Autumn, yet realizing there is worth
in its bare branched limbs, for as sure as sap flows
in Winter, thoughts in my mind and heart also
produce sugar sweet syrup as its just reward.
There's no chilly Winter when I am discontent.
No moment in Spring when I need to lament
Autumn leaves may fall, but it's Nature's intent
And Summer is the season of personal advent.
Balmy Summer ~ the season of warmer months,
a time when my senses are more closely in tune
and aligned with the setting of an amber sun
when I sit beneath the gently swaying arms
of a willow, clearing my mind of worrisome things.
It's the time of year when in darkness I appreciate
the soft silver glow of the full moon's shimmering light
as it offers me the impetus to write rhyming tercets
while watching millions of shining stars surround Luna
as if she were a ring, and they her diamond baguettes.
In those times, I clear my mind of all white noise
to enjoy the trilling calls of meadowlarks that sing
and watch the flight of tiny sparrows on the wing.
It's when I shed the harness that reins me in
and accept the freedom to merge and cojoin
every part of my being into one distinctive tenant.
One who dwells inside of me with perfect coalescence
of sweet and savory, components that blend
my past and present in a continuum of the here and now,
sewn together with solace, creating a serene soul.
Line of inquiry:
“as we passed her she did wilt
which caused in us sense of guilt
since our stance perhaps did cause
to put her heart’s joy on pause
though we’re gentle, not hostile
we diminished her soul’s smile
since our aura as she viewed
scent of love did not exude”
~ Unseeking Seeker
******************
Are we perceived as hostile beings
by flora that we tend in our gardens?
If we intimidate petals of peonies
each time we walk past their stems,
we should make amends and ask for pardon.
Is the pink tint of their blush mistrust of us?
Withering zinnias and wilting wisteria!
We wouldn't want to burden them with fear
when we speak of how lovely they'd look
in a crystal vase, set upon our parlor mantle.
To ease their worry and not cause their tears,
in our pockets, we don't carry pruning shears.
We personify flowers as if they have feelings—
but do our innuendos have that effect on people?
We label shy ones as loners or 'wall flowers'
who pull back, often going unnoticed for hours.
Do some of us unintentionally cause that reaction?
If this proves true, we need to take a moment
to have in depth contemplative consciousness,
a change in our stance and make an atonement
if it's determined we're at fault— guilty.
If so, our aura indeed has need of correction.
One that shows us emanating a kinder reflection.
The one who wilted as we passed by—
was she the shrinking Violet we refused to see?
Would we bring her heart joy if we paused
and spoke to her with a gentle greeting?
Words that would give the fragile one cause
to not think of us as hostile and vile?
If a kind word is spoken with a sincere smile
wouldn't those greetings be worthwhile?
It's plausible that we'd then have a pleasant scent,
the treacly aroma of consideration and love.
Time taken to say, 'hello' would've been well spent.
Hold out a hand as a metaphorical invitation to dance.
It might give a wallflower the confidence and the chance
to stand tall and no longer cringe at being approached.
If we've been at fault for diminishing the smile in souls,
offer them emotional strength. Be someone who consoles.
“it’s not desire per say but the clinging ~
that stifles soul and stops heart from singing
enlivening silence sets our soul free ~
vibrant in the now, joyful and carefree” – line of inquiry
Reflected in the sun’s glittering persona,
Gentle music, colored by the wonderful,
Beautiful contrasts of light and laughter,
Rising on the cobalt skies, into ever after.
Morning joy falls soft like gentle raindrops,
Dew caressing the petals of my roses,
Hearts warmed by the music of the birdsong,
Drifting through the thoughts, sweetest blessings.
Secreted beneath the affectionate stories,
Grace cascading, preaching peace and praise,
Erasing the melancholy, the fading shadows,
On a moonlit hill where stars twinkle, so vibrant.
Lost in the trembling paradise, the garden,
Where yesterday feeds the present day,
Singing harmony with hopes and dreams,
Blending pearls of joy with silent screams.
Amid the tones, rhythms of elation, bliss
Crisp as the new dawn and just as fresh,
Remembering the creativity of a broken kiss,
Inviting the brave natures of soundless feelings.
Imaginations bestow quiet tendencies,
Shades of forgiving smiles in echoes of applause,
While all else fails, there is the acclaim,
From the hearts who recall angelic cries of prayers.
Breathing inspiration into the flooded unknown,
Regions of hope, where seas travel warm,
Bidding good-bye to the rivers who still yearn,
Lasting throughout time, in swift waves, they dance.
Yesterday, moments bled through the sorrows,
Vanishing beyond the fears, tears and doubting,
Remembering blessings poured out over life,
Speaking out joy despite the despair that never quits.
This is the tale of a being, a soul who believes,
Beyond the mountains, beyond the seas,
There are pieces of grace spreading faith and light,
Breathing serenity all across the darkest nights.
This is a tale of life’s greatest need, the believing,
That plants the eternal seed…
With these words, I leave you a foundation,
Start with faith and continue with grace that frees.
Listen to this Jesus, who offers eternal peace!
Line of inquiry:
“on an as is where is basis we choose
descent of consciousness into the gross
then we rise again following heart’s muse
higher than where stood, bearing love’s cross”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the everlasting, where silence stands still,
Bleeding its tears, reflecting on the blessings, sincere
Risking all the wistful moments,
Embraced by the grace so real,
Praising the One who came to silence…
The doubts, the dread, the despair
His heart seems more like God’s purpose
Than even the silence of a faithful wind,
More than the forest’s music,
More than the colors of the sun,
More than the sea’s sweet voice,
More than the laughter or joy,…
Praising the One who came to destroy…
Fears, tears and the many years
Before God whispered His promise,
Through it all, He’d stay – faithful and full of grace,
Always willing to bear the load, the burden
Of the souls who He saved from the horror of a grave,
The horror of a day when there’d be hell to pay.
In the everlasting, where love abides in each smile,
There is a silent thunder, one who seeks the hope,
A windless feeling, unburdened by the past,
Always knowing, forgiveness has come at last.
Through all the shadows, the struggles, the stress,
Sometimes beckoning to the soul…
There is a love that will guide us home,
A love that sings peace to the night
A melody of joy in the afterlife,
A music that seeks to silence the quiet…
In the everlasting, where He is more than just a story
Where He is God – He is joy – He is the only One
Who can save this lonely world, the only One
Who God sent down to us, with a promise…
That forever, we’d become sons and daughters of the ONE
Who silences the seas, brings grace that can free,
Reassures with gentle peace, a believing that never leaves,
A believing that saves the weak,
A believing that leads all the sheep…
A believing that sings love through me.
A believing that prepares hearts to see…
Through the darkness, into the light, so amazing,
The whole reason that my soul is ever praising!
It is a love that God is raising!
Line of inquiry
‘Minus Identity Who am I’
‘What a piece of work is a man!’
……… ………
And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust’
(Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Act II, scene 2)
From Shakespeare, through Hamlet,
It rings down to generations
And falls heavily in my ears too.
In vain, I attempt to probe into the mystery
Nay, the enigma called man,
Both in the silence of my solitude,
And in the learned circle of friends.
(Fool…! Unable to find who you are,
Can you venture to say who the other man is?)
Man is a jumble of contradictions,
I know, a hard nut to crack!
So unfathomable, so mysterious
At once a Satan and an angel
To the outer world I am someone.
But in the well-guarded cellars of my privacy
Aren’t I different?
Hiding my innards to light, as every other man.
Am I not a masked player in life’s pantomime!
I wonder what’s true to my being
And what makes me, the real me.
I see contradictions abound in me
And my personality, like an ocean is volatile,
Sometimes tranquil, sometimes agitated
Placid without waves very often,
But at times roaring with billows crashing!
I am openminded, but hide many secrets.
I am instinctively emotional, but mature.
I am an extrovert and feel happy in company,
But I like to withdraw into loneliness often.
I am mostly thoughtful, but tend to overthink.
I act confident but am diffident at heart.
Though satisfied with what I get,
I tend to crave more for the love people give me.
I am a poet and an artist, feeding on the encouragement I get
And stimulated by internal inspiration.
I am never a nosy parker, but curious about things
That pique my interest, be it of people or of the world.
I am a good listener, but need someone to listen to me.
I am easy to get along with, but get easily flustered.
I am compassionate, adjustable, loyal and humble.
At best I am a child of God, but lets the Satan,
Take over me sometimes when my temper rises.
How often, I wish to change myself
Change some of my characteristic traits
But minus my identity, I fear who I will be?