Long Rediscovery Poems
Long Rediscovery Poems. Below are the most popular long Rediscovery by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rediscovery poems by poem length and keyword.
You know how it is
It's all on you
So what's going on
What are we going through
Never trust a beggers for
Your salvation
It's foolish and unwise
In all that it's saying
So love the world
As long as you
Ain't in it
Crumbled ego's
Bruised or hurt feelings
They can't understand
What you're going through
It's a place of rediscovery
Something ancient and
Full of un a new
A waiting world needs new
Inventions
With directions
You know the inventers
Intentions
Sorted facts from foolish
Fictions
Give them a futuristic taught
With futuristic intentions
Savor through
Who's using who
That's what a people want
They're looking to you
It's real complicated
It ain't challenged or debated
What corner are you in
What are you saying
I like the part when it's
all relating
Seeking fused
Merger or marriage
It's all caught to let
The People have it
The Echo of Summer's End
Love so sweet, the ghost of summer now whispers in the past,
The passion of the air lingers in the deep fragrance;
Sorrow and rage no longer find a place to express themselves,
Only the true heart that beats in silent abundance.
Swiftly, over each one, the tender fires dim and fade,
Pointing the way to the love within your soul;
Daybreak in the morning or the shadow of a distant cloud,
All that is love, beyond reach, beyond control.
For day turns once more into the dark of night,
And everything offers something of value;
It declares itself through thorns and a heart full of wisdom,
Slashing around, love from seed to birth.
Conquer each truth from the hidden feelings,
The routes and the maps emerge from inside.
In the depth of night, among the shadows of memories,
I lose myself in an unbroken stream of thoughts,
Where metaphors intertwine with the whispers of the wind,
And each verse carries my soul back to the lost summer.
Love, so sweet, has vanished into yesterday,
Leaving behind only the echo of its deep fragrance;
Sorrow and rage no longer have a place in this corner of the world,
Only the true heart, still beating in its silent abundance.
The tender fires of each moment swiftly dim,
Pointing the way to the depths of your soul;
Daybreak in the morning or some distant cloud,
All that is love remains inaccessible, beyond control.
For day turns again into the night,
And each thing has its own value to offer;
It declares itself through thorns and a heart full of wisdom,
Slashing around, love from seed to birth.
Conquer each truth from the hidden feelings,
The routes and the maps come from the depths of the heart.
In this stream of consciousness, I find my solace,
Knowing that each memory of the lost summer
Is a part of me, a thread in the tapestry of my soul,
A story of love and melancholy,
A tale of loss and rediscovery,
Where each metaphor is a bridge
To the true heart, still beating
In its silent abundance.
New archetypes are rising, whispering among shadows and unspoken dreams,
You are not "too sensitive" or "too intense," you are simply remembering a nameless role,
A role that takes shape now, in this era of memory and rediscovery,
Where the frequencies of the soul rise, dancing in harmony with the universe.
The Timeline Weaver heals by braiding timelines, not bypassing them,
The past, present, and future respond to their conscious choices,
The Code Whisperer translates frequency into art, sound, and expression,
Creating works that awaken dormant memories in others, sparking new beginnings.
The Grid Tender feels the Earth like an old and dear friend,
Not only visiting sacred places but weeping with them,
Remembrance comes through reverence, through a deep connection with the soil,
The Soft Disruptor doesn't fight to be heard, but their existence destabilizes illusions.
The Shadow Synthesizer doesn't bypass darkness but dances with it,
Alchemizes pain into wisdom without shame, transforming everything,
The Veil Threader brings truth from thin places, where visions seem like déjà vu,
The Frequency Anchor doesn't preach or force, their presence alone changes reality.
The Mirror Guide reflects your truest self without judgment,
One conversation with them and you are never the same, you change profoundly,
You may not be all of them, but if one touches you deeply, it's because you are one,
Or you are becoming one in this New Age of Remembrance and self-discovery, in light.
So you wear these thorns with pride, accepting the hand that invites you to dance,
and you spin alongside your reflection, to the music of voids that sing to your tears.
Because you know, this pain looks better on no one else but you,
you know you have always been the perfect mannequin to display it to the world.
In the mirror of your soul, a ballet of shadows and lights is reflected,
where every step is an untold story, a silence that bears your name,
and in this dance, pain becomes a silk dress, a crown of thorns,
which you wear with grace, for only you know how to dress suffering with elegance.
The whistle of time sings a refrain of loss and rediscovery,
and you, wrapped in melancholy, embrace your imperfections as rare artifacts,
because you have learned that beyond the pain lies an inexplicable beauty,
a story written in shades of sadness and light, understood only by you.
Thus you dance with your thorns and tears, blending reality with illusion,
a perfect mannequin transforming suffering into art, into a spectacle of life,
because in every wound and every tear hides a part of you,
a truth you wear with pride, an eternal dance in the mirror of destiny.
I no longer want to be a child, for those years carry a thick layer of forgotten dust,
where every corner hides a room where I learned to forget how to breathe,
and memories are like shadows dancing silently on the walls of time.
Returning would mean shattering myself on the same silent and cold corners,
on the same sharp edges that once sculpted me, leaving me empty.
The truth is I barely escaped the labyrinth of those days, barely surviving,
and I wouldn't want to go back, to fight again for a fragile and trembling existence.
It's as if I'm walking on a glass bridge, looking down at the depths of the past,
where each step could crack the illusion of hard-won safety and tranquility.
I've learned to build a mosaic of the present from shards, to look
forward, with eyes open to the daylight that promises new beginnings and hopes.
In this flow of thoughts and sensations, the past remains a whispered story,
an echo of a silent struggle, but the present is a song of freedom and rediscovery,
where I've learned to breathe again, without fear, without losing myself anymore.
Each lived moment is a victory, a new page in a book that's continuously being written,
and I, a traveler through my own story, choose to step forward, to create my future.
We may have been seeing reflections that belonged to yesterday
but something magnetic was causing our footsteps to stray.
Perhaps they were awakened musings, buried deep in memory,
that set us on a romantic journey down this mountain path of rediscovery.
Afraid to speak of it, we silently chose which garden lane to walk,
nervously masked our secret feelings with mundane idle talk.
When he curled his fingers around mine, my heart began to race.
I was uncertain if this journey would end in a sweet embrace.
We stepped on to an ornamental passage in a garden maze
and witnessed moonlight's glow through a mystical golden haze.
It was awash in nectar blossoms of nature's fragrant flowers
and in that scented arbor, we shared passion's kisses for hours.
Within each other's arms, we took a vow and pledged our love,
witnessed by red roses and myriads of shining stars above.
We caressed each other with touches that had long been denied
then he wiped away my tears of joy, tears I hadn't known I'd cried.
Seedlings grow from the ground when nurtured by the sun,
like love bloomed in the garden, when at last we became one.
Just as tender grapes slowly ripen to become rare vintage wine,
we surrendered to each other, two hearts forever to intertwine.
Spiritual, perhaps even emotional, experience
reflected upon and evaluated with gratitude,
can further develop natural-rational
secular-sacred
co-intelligent eco-presence
between sacred ecotherapy
and secular egohealthy healing.
By contrast,
LeftBrain competitions
against RightBrain cooperatives,
PositivEnergy trusted
by multicultural democratic emotions
and motions
of swelling WinWin love
and awesome Left-Right co-arising beauty,
These winning Losses,
salutary problems,
further acclimate against health optimization
furthering LeftBrain dominant suboptimization
of natural-spiritual wealth
within everyday Western competitions
to champion patriarchal patriotism
Against matriarchal eco-maturity
nondualistic
non-violent nurturing
Green ZeroZones
Boundaried by No Vacancy signs
aimed as tools, not monoculturing weapons
for harvesting dissonance,
co-disassociating non-therapeutic colonizing injustice risks
distinguished from ecotherapeutic creolizing justice opportunities
of and for peace-filling ZeroZones
of Sacred Green PolyCulturing Integrity.
Light/Dark emotional, perhaps even spiritual, experience
reflected upon and evaluated with gratitude,
can present both LeftBrain oppositions for EgoSafety
and RightBrain BothAnd apposition
for WinWin EcoOpportunity ReDiscovery.
In your temple, you rewrite me with glass letters, infinitely breaking me,
And I pronounce the mantra of forgiveness, like a saint in the agony of purifying ecstasy.
Her voice vibrated, a flame in the storm, signing with the pain etched on her face,
Her finger trembling toward itself, a lost guide in the labyrinth of withdrawal.
"Why do I return to you, after you've walked me through the hell of suffering?"
There's a psalm in me, echoing, polished by the intangible dream of an answer.
Her words are like gashes in flesh, the sour of indifference cutting deep,
"I'm caught in this turbulent circle, where I can do nothing but welcome you again,
Even with a broken soul, knowing all too well, you will step into the sanctuary once more."
A metempsychosis of longing, in a cage of time, where your shadows heal in their wandering,
I carry my dream towards you, passing through the moon's fleeting multitudes.
With each reliving, a penumbra in the cutting wind, a tale with blackened pages,
Understanding with a tacit gleam, that your gates, even shattered, always wait for me open.
And so, a ballerina in the masquerade of renunciation and rediscovery, I step into the round of forgetting,
My spirit, a tapestry soaked with torment and aspiration, fluttering in the eternal story,
With every redemption of fidelity, the dance grows tighter, pulling me away from silence,
But I refuse to close the gates of the heart's understanding.
In this pantheon of the eternally slumbering, where twilight brings no amnesty,
I trace the sparks from this fateful detail, with a heart like a butterfly on an altar of forgiveness.
My steps wander through the urban labyrinth, a chaos of dancing lights and shadows,
When suddenly, a door opens in my fragile reality, inviting me into the unknown.
The midnight café, a refuge for lost souls and unspoken dreams,
Embraces me with its enticing aroma, promising an escape from my own thoughts.
Coffee vapors rise like spirals of smoke from a mystical ritual,
Reflecting the whirlwind of emotions hidden in the depths of my frozen heart.
The warmth of the stove's fire whispers forgotten tales, slowly melting the walls around my soul,
As the night weaves its spell, transforming each second into a suspended eternity.
I sip from the steaming cup, and the bitter liquid floods my senses,
Awakening memories and dreams I thought long lost in the mists of time.
My eyes, until now closed to the beauty of the world, open wide,
Seeing for the first time the magic hidden in the simplicity of the present moment.
My thoughts float freely, like moths attracted to the flame of a candle,
Dancing between reality and dream, between past and future, in a waltz of infinite consciousness.
I feel the boundaries between myself and the universe blur, melting into the harmony of the night,
And my soul becomes one with the cosmic rhythm of existence, pulsing in every atom.
Sleep calls me with velvet arms, promising sweet dreams and profound revelations,
But I resist the temptation, for I know this magical moment is more precious than any dream.
In this midnight café, time and space lose their meaning,
Leaving room only for contemplation and the discovery of the hidden self.
When dawn breaks the night's spell, I will leave this sanctuary of silence and rediscovery,
Carrying with me the memory of this moment suspended between worlds and dimensions.
The midnight café will disappear in the morning mist, like an ephemeral mirage,
Leaving me to wonder if it was all real or just a beautiful illusion of my wandering mind.
Toward you I move, with every step lost in the wind that sings stories,
When I say I'm coming home, I'm actually moving toward you, though I scatter along the way,
The warmth of returning envelops me like a cloak woven from memories of longing,
And the milestones of the roads press like long shadows stretching over ancient times,
In the fear that I won't know when and how I'll truly reach you,
For on the sleigh of winter gliding among the stars, I leave letters at your gate,
And in a secret and posthumous way, they will carry me to your silent threshold,
Where time stops and dreams dance like butterflies at dawn,
Something, surely, will happen, for my hands depart to bow,
At the altar of your presence, where days intertwine with stellar nights.
My feet already know the way, bearing memories of unseen steps,
Anyway, I will reach your home, even if the roads are long and winding,
For I have set out, a lifetime ago, toward you, traveling through seasons and dreams,
With every heartbeat, closer to the place where we reunite,
With this journey, I find a profound tranquility, a peace that cannot be described,
And even if the cold winds try to divert me from the chosen path,
The light in your eyes will be the beacon, guiding me through the fog of doubts,
Until, finally, I reach you, where wounds heal,
Where every sigh becomes a whisper of eternal love and longing,
Toward you, always, I move, with an open heart and a soul full of rediscovery.