Long Reveals Poems
Long Reveals Poems. Below are the most popular long Reveals by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reveals poems by poem length and keyword.
What a joy comes to one's heart
to see our spiritual children stepping out
having received God's truth at birth
as our heavenly father said from His fount
From that sane fount springs forth love
to love one another at the father's command
this is not new but have always heard
so walk in His truth so to truly stand
Beware of deceivers in this world
who won't confess Christ to have come
such are the deceiver and the antichrist
denying Jesus makes you spiritually numb
Be on your watch so don't lose your reward
keep true to Christ always connect to abide
in this teaching being a true follower
for if not you don't have God turning aside
Whoever comes without teaching this truth
don't receive him, doing so makes you a part
of his wicked schemes denying your Christ
rejoice and walk in truth reveals your heart
(I rejoiced greatly to find some of your children walking in the truth, just as we were commanded by the Father. And now I ask you, dear lady—not as though I were writing you a new commandment, but the one we have had from the beginning—that we love one another. And this is love, that we walk according to his commandments; this is the commandment, just as you have heard from the beginning so that you should walk in it. For many deceivers have gone out into the world, those who do not confess the coming of Jesus Christ in the flesh. Such a one is the deceiver and the antichrist. Watch yourselves, so that you may not lose what we have worked for, but may win a full reward. Everyone who goes on ahead and does not abide in the teaching of Christ does not have God. Whoever abides in the teaching has both the Father and the Son. If anyone comes to you and does not bring this teaching, do not receive him into your house or give him any greeting, for whoever greets him takes part in his wicked works.)
2 John vs 4-11 (ESV)
(I chose these verses as they are most relevant in today's world, especially for every Christian believer to be acting in accordance to these truths.)
There's something
Special about May and me.
As we approach the end of May,
And as June at our doorsteps lay,
There's a thing or two I'd like to say.
From time to time along the line of life,
May has been a springboard,
A diving board,
A starting point,
A launching pad,
A gateway,
To a life of work and purpose,
Disconnecting me from childhood play.
May contains the dismay I felt on the day
of my dad's demise when I was 13.
May houses my graduations
From elementary, high school, and college.
May documents my final preparations for
My upcoming June wedding day.
May records the day I left home at 17
To start a life of my very own.
May reveals the priceless snapshot
Of mom, grandma, and my 8 younger
Siiblings waving goodbye to me.
As I think and muse about the month of May,
I am permiated by things that were sometime grey.
But I also see a key unlocking a host of precious memories. I tell you, There's really something special between May and me.
I often reflect on the character of certain individuals. The character I'm referring to, in a dictionary sense, is not the same as the characters in my book. Writing reveals a person's character like nothing else.
The characters in my poems are never about me; they reflect my willingness to come to terms with them. For the past two years, I have taken on a new character: Who am I? What was I thinking? Who told me I could take on such a huge responsibility?
I have found that friendship is better for business than business is for friendship. I have proven this quote to be true. I always appreciate when someone gives me something, and I cherish that gift until the end.
Years ago, when I was a teenager and times were tough, my cousin and I would borrow things from each other, like clothing. I remember my favorite blouse that I lent to her. I spent almost all my wages to buy that top, yet she took forever to return it to me. One day, I finally mustered the courage to ask her for it back. She promised to return it within a week.
A week passed, then another, and another. I decided to go to her house to retrieve my favorite yellow top. As I walked into her backyard, I saw my yellow silk blouse in the sink, lying in a pile of dirty laundry. My heart stopped for a moment—there it was, green and moldy, crying out to me: "Rescue me!" I couldn't believe my eyes.
She never respected my belongings or those of others. It has been over thirty years, and I still have the pink robe my boss gave me after the birth of my first daughter. I cherish it and appreciate the thoughtfulness behind that wonderful gift. When someone gives us something, we must consider how much they care to choose a token of their love for us.
I often reflect on the character of some people and how they tend to use others. When you can’t come through for them, they sulk and feed on others' sympathy. My advice is this: don’t help people who won’t help themselves. Just walk away and take it from this character.
Nights the swarls of seen
Must swisle into session
a graffel of distorted
sounds
ajusted to expression
speak the words
he sorted bunch
ight the songstress
speak her need
to gather most the face
reveals
what a songbird needs to succeed
every word must be heard
and conversation
might an complicated discussion
speak
the need the concerted sold
might these things bring us near
the perfection
we speak we really need
then as one
we music chore
as best as we can be
sing these words
to express the words
so an audience might beleive
that our togetherness
is all with there concern
as we chore
to meet there needs.
Where is she? Who knows her? Who has heard her voice?
She is here, in every moment, in every gaze.
From afar I see her like a gentle reflection,
And in my dreams, she reveals herself in silence.
In silence I converse with her,
About things no one else could ever understand.
She speaks into my ear in soft whispers,
And I feel her heart beating close to mine.
And when the night falls and the world grows still,
She takes her leave in silence, but leaves hope behind.
For I know that tomorrow, in the brightness of the dawn,
She will return to be here again,
In every moment, in every gaze.
Her fingertips swiftly dance
Across the Ivory keys
With only darkness to see
Sound brings her to light
Music fills her aching heart.
It consumes her soul completely
With a beautiful lifting tune
She is now in another place
That gives her wholesome peace
She can dance, she can sing
Without single disturbance
The piano is her own escape
She lives safely through a song
Blindness has no boundary
The tune reveals it all
She lifts her fingers and stands
The song plays on in her mind
Happiness, content, complete
She softly walks away from it
The piano silently waits
While moments carry her through
Until the next time, she fully lives again
Heidi Sands
Paradise may be that moment when we turn back to the past,
And discover that its beauty existed despite our presence,
A time when our departure reveals the splendor, hidden beneath the whirls of shadows,
We wandered through the labyrinth of life, and now, a light pierces the clouds of melancholy.
In the alleys of memories, our steps were echoes of nocturnal shadows,
Beauty passed by us, unseen, like a night flower opening in secrecy,
With our eyes closed, we contemplate the past through veils of dreams and the unknown,
We ask ourselves: were those moments truly magical, in their silent brilliance?
Forgetfulness weaves invisible strings, a mute song of dissipated years,
Each memory a note in a symphony of enigmatic destiny,
And now, our absence unlocks the charm hidden in times gone by,
Paradise, a locked painting, becomes beautiful because we are no longer there.
Old clothes kept in dusty chests, impregnated with scents of forgotten times,
Each particle of dust, a fallen star on a sky of prolonged yearnings,
Now we see clearly, in our absence, how all those moments reassemble,
Magical fragments united in a universe of shadows and pale lights.
Through darkened windows, the saving tranquility pours out,
Absent, we watch the past becoming an Edenic garden lost in reverie,
Without us, wounds heal, smiles return, music permeates the silence,
Beauty is found on the forgotten edge, where time flows like a pure crystal river.
Shadows transform into gods, statues come to life, dancing under evanescent rays of light,
Without pretensions, just the mysterious reflection of our absent calm,
In such a perceived past, magic blooms, and we bow astonished,
Paradise, a living diorama, where beauty reborns in our absence.
And I, a wanderer through the seas of the dream, always return,
Among those fragments of memory, in search of a long-lost purpose,
Each fragment is lost in an abyss of rediscovered lyricism,
An eternal game of shadows, woven on the canvas of mystical reality.
In our absence, paradise reassembles,
A landscape of dream and expectation, where time reveals its hidden treasures,
Thus, I return again to the dream of endless quests,
In a world of poetry, where shadows dance under the light of eternal stars.
Wine is the mother of all
Bread is the son who made all
Wine leaks through the gigantic wall
Bread makes that very loud call
This is my body and blood
The bread is the kind waker
Yet is the one who is slayed
It was before the baker
Despite the bread being baked
This is my body and blood
Wine quenches the hot fire
Bread spreads the burning fire
Wine came from what is higher
Bread reveals what is higher
The is my body and blood
The blood moves within us all
We are all part of the body
The bread was showed to Saul
The wine was drank by many
This is my body and blood
Listen to your heart, your spirit
For the conscious revealing truth
The wisdom that comes from heeding
God’s instruction, His correction
And His everlasting word, the Bible
Listen to the way He reveals to you
All the insight into a living devotion
Assurance that whatever you go through
You can find the answers in your soul
Where He guides, instructs and assures
Listen to His still, small voice – the light
That reflects His image, His Holy Spirit
Who welcomes you to praise and pray
In silence, in noise – wherever you may be
Yearning for God to take notice of your need
Listen to Him through the scriptures
Who reveal His heart and open the way
To receiving guidance and direction
Through sorrows, joys and everything
With promises for your benefit and help
Listen to the prudence of a heavenly Father
One who knows your deepest thoughts
Your secret dreams and all you believe
And find encouragement through His gift
Of reassurance and grace, inspiration and faith
Listen to your heart – listen to your intent
Do you hope to win or do you hope to give a gift?
Is your heart in the right place when you pray?
Do you hope to honor God and honor the faith?
Do you breathe worship through it all? Praise God
Listen to your soul, the part of you who knows
He is with you always – forever leading you on
Through sadness and sorrow, through joy and hope
Into the moments when you know you will discover
The answers to prayers and faith that is alive
Listen… listen.. to the still, small voice of God
Who looks past your anger and shame, your worst
To the center of your heart where He sees you
As you were meant to be seen… filled with a love
That dances and sings, love that was given by Him
Listen to your heart and believe in a love that is alive
Guiding your thoughts toward intimacy with the Lord
Who knows you need His love more than anything
And hopes you will come to Him through everything
Secure in the worship of One who is the light of your soul
Listen and know… God is still in control
1 Peter 3:16 KJV 16 Having a good conscience; that, whereas they speak evil of you, as of evildoers, they may be ashamed that falsely accuse your good conversation in Christ.
I will glorify your name from the highest mountain peak.
And across the vast seas that are bursting with your animate wonderous mystique.
Glorious God.
Who showed me mercy.
Who forgave despicable me.
I am now strong and spiritually healthy.
I praise your name for you are so worthy.
Glorious God.
Who showed me mercy.
Who forgave despicable me.
I will glorify your name down the darkest alley,
and among a crowded street.
I will spread your gospel with an unveiled face to whomever I meet.
Glorious God.
Who showed me mercy.
Who forgave despicable me.
I will sing your sovereign grace with the foremost contentment
Our Glorious God, our holy preeminent.
Glorious God.
Who showed me mercy.
Who forgave despicable me.
Your glory emanates;
The beauty of the day.
The brilliance of the sun and the tremendous clouds of gray.
The mystery of the watermeal.
In its state of splendid germinated epigeal.
The bee hummingbird with its colorful plumage.
All things magnificent , simple, and beautiful are a testimony
to a homage that reveals true presents of you.
I am caught up in the majestic glory of you.
Glorious God.
Who showed me mercy.
Who forgave despicable me.
Your gospel is etched on my heart.
A once wretched soul with a fresh start.
Glorious God.
Who showed me mercy.
Who forgave despicable me
copyright 2017 Looking At The Light From The Bottom Of The Lake