Long Temple Poems
Long Temple Poems. Below are the most popular long Temple by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Temple poems by poem length and keyword.
The life of every man is infinite, a canvas stretched beyond the horizons,
A silent theater where the mysteries of the restless being are played without words,
Where thoughts are ships that float on seas of untraveled constellations,
The depths of the soul – endless oceans that embrace the elusive skies.
Thus, each moment becomes a ritual in the temple of ancient time,
With long verses written by the unseen hands of destiny, incessantly,
Breaths quiver like leaves under the breath of primal winds,
Scattered we are, seeds of the night, germinating secretly in fields of existence.
From beneath the cloak of night, the moon carves the filigree of boundless memory,
We are omnipresent in the whisper stretching from one corner to another of the infinite,
Hidden in the untamed aura of the spheres, we chant mystically and taciturn,
Wings of light that cleave the twilight, search for the roots of the lost sky.
In thickets of enigmatic dreams, we wander through the universal labyrinth,
Worlds are born and die within us, with every breath that breaks the infinite stillness,
Lives meander through us like rivers merging with the dark sea,
In eternal struggle with the mist, unseen truths are woven into the stars that watch over us.
We spend our days gathering echoes of a magic that slips between moments,
Beneath the lofty vault, our soul traverses the tangible frontiers of matter,
In seraphic harmony, we are spirals in dance, torches burning in the sanctuary of silence,
Within ourselves, we find the solemn echo of the heavenly song, the prelude of a divine symphony.
The spheres know our names, within them, destinies are stars pulsing in harmony,
We weave incessantly, as heirs of the mystery, the dark cloak of starry nights,
Spirits bound by the invisible thread of hope that reveals itself in perpetual dream,
A living tableau, painted with sunbeams woven into the heart of the breathing universe.
visions of God
theophanies
the hand
of the Lord
in visions&signs
wheels within wheels
a firmanent
in appearance
&likeness
realities of vision
seeing the glory
of God
the incoming
indwelling
Holy Spirit
speaking
by words
received into the
. heart
heard
in the ears
to confront
thoughts
a visual
approach
to appeal
spoken oracles
a
hope for the future
a future restoration
a vision
of the perfect state
a temple
of hope
the house of the
Lord
for a holy
people
the Lord
is there
My best Friend is my Saviour and Lord Jesus Christ Who knows my condition!
My soul He freed from hell’s eternal damnation
He redeemed me, assuring me His salvation
Making me a heaven-bound citizen with eternal life’s possession.
My best Friend is my satisfaction Grantor Who shows my bestowed privilege!
My spirit He assured that I’m His child He does acknowledge
He endowed me with precious inheritance based on His pledge
Making me a potential investor in His divine work’s mileage.
My best Friend is my tranquility Source Who fixes my peaceful being!
My body He made the temple of the Holy Spirit I must be obeying
He enables me to grow in His grace while unceasingly praying
Making me a blessed Christian, while in His will, I keep on staying.
My best Friend is He Who completes my wholeness!
My heart He fills with His joy, mirth and gladness
He meets my insufficiency and nothingness with timeliness
Making me a rich heir in His gracious and loving bountifulness.
My best Friend settles my perspective!
My mind He renewed when my sins He did forgive
He teaches me by His counsels that His Word delights to give
Making me a wise learner, as for Him, I decide to live.
My best Friend builds up my testimony’s history!
My desire He has geared toward proclaiming the Gospel story
He subdues my selfishness, pride, and worldliness that bring me misery
Making me a faithful steward, determined to serve Him toward His victory.
My best Friend* is my life’s sturdy anchor!
My strength He empowers by His might where I find succor
He straightens me in my pursuit for holiness while for Him I labor
Making me a sincere life-builder who leads others to His friendship’s harbor.
*James 2:23 And the scripture was fulfilled which saith, Abraham believed God, and it was imputed unto him for righteousness: and he was called the Friend of God.
May 9, 2018
Forty days and forty nights
without a bite to eat!
And then this dude comes strolling by
with offers pretty sweet.
I guess he thinks it’s going to work
Like earworms in my head.
I’m talking with my Father here;
He’s planting thoughts of bread.
Instead
He’s planting thoughts of bread.
Say, Satan, for a guy so smart,
You say things pretty odd!
The temporal does not sustain,
Not like the word of God!
Like young chicks helpless in a nest
Cared for by mother bird,
Nourished directly from her mouth,
So God gives us his word.
His word.
So God gives us his word.
And then the nerve! He hauls me off
And takes me to the temple.
Says, “Jesus, you’re the Son of God;
This one is really simple!”
He wanted me to just leap off,
To base jump to the ground.
Said, “God has got his angels here
And they won’t let you down!”
Just jump!
And they won’t let you down!
Say, Satan, don’t you ever read?
You need to crack that book!
I know it’s probably been a while;
You ought to take a look.
For if you had been listening,
You probably could have guessed.
It’s not for us to test the Lord,
No, He gives all the tests.
Not us
No, He gives all the tests
But still he tries the bribe again,
Thinks third time is the charm.
He takes me to a lofty place
And sweeps wide with his arm.
Says, “All of this I give to you,
A gift to you from me.
The only thing you’ve got to do:
Fall down and worship me!”
Fall down!
Fall down and worship me!
Say, Satan, have you lost your mind?
You’ve really got some nerve!
The Book says, “Worship God alone;
Him only shall you serve!”
I know that we’re not done just yet,
But let’s call it a day.
Your offers: easy to refuse.
No thanks, now go away!
No thanks!
No thanks, now go away!
(From Matthew 4)
The Defeat
It got to me
My temple has been struck
At first it was sudden pains
Like hailstones from the rain
Now the pain grows worse
Something more like a curse.
Spreading fast and fierce
Someone please call the nurse
It hit me right at the core
Now my system is at war
The air is thicker than before
As I'm gasping for air
The chances of survival don't seem to be there.
This cloud of smoke is getting me weak
Now I feel the fear of defeat
Lungs are collapsing
As the machine starts beeping
Straight line, no more beeping
Just the last tear and His voice whispering
"Get up and defeat it".
Corona you, I have to defeat.
In my mind I travel the open road.
Whitman, Frost, Thoreau,
they got here and there before.
I also used to trek and track
there and back;
now I have this chair
and when I can
I place ii in a circle of sunlight,
eyes projecting scenes on eyelids.
I find it easier to slide upwards
to mountaintops this way.
There I can listen to temple bells,
ringing their soft golden chimes
above a mist-laced jungle morning,
or walk a Great Wall
to watch the sun set over Mongolia.
Now a river boat docks at my feet,
I ride the Ohio river
maybe as far as the Mississippi
Mark Twain at the wheel.
Then turn to the open road once more
for a homeward journey,
my chair creaking
as I traipse over lands low and high
to bask now in a backyard
as daylight lengthens.
Ohio corn sways to a hobo wind,
while I,
still hearing the roaring of oceans
orbiting a sitting Buddha,
at peace
with all roads taken or not.
Delegation by Design
Delegation by design, God calls the faithful to serve,
In His house with purpose, with passion and nerve.
To serve the Master is a calling so high,
With honor and joy, with hearts lifted high.
We’re not all called to every task or place,
But each is appointed by God’s perfect grace.
Deacons and deaconesses, chosen to stand,
In service and love, by His sovereign hand.
A life that is holy, no twisting, no game,
Just living for Jesus and lifting His name.
With wisdom and kindness, integrity too,
Reflecting Christ’s image in all that you do.
A role by His choosing, a sacred design,
According to Scripture, it is a divine calling.
To live to a standard both steady and true,
At home and in service—His light shining through.
A deacon, devoted, in covenant stands,
With purity guiding his heart and his plans.
The deaconess also walks each day humbly,
In Christlike reflection along the same way.
Though some may resist or not understand,
Stay faithful and steady, upheld by His hand.
For you are appointed, entrusted, aligned,
Set apart for His glory—delegated by design.
Together in unity, growing as one,
Serving with purpose till the work is done.
For Jesus, our Savior, the perfect example,
Left heaven to serve in humility’s temple.
So walk in compassion, be humble and kind,
In this sacred calling so carefully designed.
Give glory to God in all that you do,
Let Christ be the model reflected in you.
For those who serve well, a promise is given,
A crown of life waiting, a reward straight from heaven.
So be faithful to the end, let your light brightly shine—
A servant of Christ, by delegation divine.
"Nothing may hide from the hidden."
- Japanese Proverb
1.
Gulliver's God Goes Silent
Sir Johnathan's Lilliputians assumed
Gulliver's watch to be his personal god,
Observing how seldom he took action
Without first consulting it.
Time has come to be the Tyrant God of our frenzied Age;
The One Who Harries
The mass of us from here to there, and back again
Crying down the faithful to the terrible slippage
The relentless loss of minutes, hours and days,
Unreclaimable all,
Shouting to us from our wrists, our walls and all things electric
The message of incompletion,
Things undone and lost
In the unstoppable flood that sweeps us along
Carrying all we think we know
Towards some great, invisible, communal Terminus.
The acolytes' wishes are served,
In serving one so like ourselves
Serving those unsatisfied by any sacrifice.
The call comes in late September;
A doctor's voice informs me
Of a tale mad cells are telling
Gathering deep within;
An aimless tide of their lives just beginning
To flourish sans form or purpose
Bringing destruction to the temple they occupy
Through sheer abundance.
That was when, for the first time,
My part in the steady move towards the Terminus
Loomed clear and certain in my sight,
Joining the strong knowledge of my heart.
A fluid anxiety filled me,
Running shapeless and invincible
I felt, somehow, like drowning -
So it was as another Summer gathered itself up for its death
I checked into the hospital
To be dropped into chemical oblivion
Laid out like an offering
To the spirits of Blood and Mystery
Reading my organs through greengloved hands,
Interpreting the language of manic cells.
Skin peeled back like pages of a book
I lay captive in the sleep of Lethe
As they read the script writ in red within
Making decisions
Correcting errata.
The god on the wall
Moved his hands in passing across his face,
But not for me.
A temple bell clangs through echoing ears.
My vision today
could turn a green leaf brown.
Why do I tilt my head like a bird
just to see its reflection in
a muddy puddle?
Why the need to know
If mud is real or just a mote in my eye?
In your eleventh hour,
in your distress,
why did you utter that accusatory word, 'forsaken'?
Those unrisen words reverberate still.
Body temples crumble away,
the altar returns to eternal flame.
Knowing this, you still cried out.
As a bird's broken wing
un-fluttering,
yet not squelched,
am I.
I die not,
to long dead thoughts.
Forsaken, forsook, forgiven.
My fear of falling
makes me ever the lame pilgrim.
Will you walk a little away,
that I might feel your leaving?
I then might for certain know,
that you are my very own
sacred heart.
For I forget myself
in this long dream of existence,
though, all-unknowing,
I will surely
blunder into the light.
In the live network
of intricate unassailable design,
invisible layer on imperceptible layer,
the latticed mind is stratified.
On spiritual strata the devout strands
align with the innate awareness,
sublime sagacious patterns
of pious perception are unified.
Many existential attributes
of sole distinction gain
access to the sanctum
of the secret psychic recess,
transcend through time undefined
the fading limits of mundane joy and pain,
as fluidized sense merges with the sea
of absolute consciousness.
In my journey within
as an introspective explorer,
I discern the enlightened soul
in the sanctuary of sublimation,
suffusing me in the core
with the supreme essence of divinity.
I get liberated from the dungeon
of the corporeal abyss.
The essential constituents
of captivating charisma
interlaces with the fabric
of consummate sincerity,
finds the ordained adornment
of internal mesmeric beauty,
spreads invisible splendorous film
on repulsive external deception,
removes the distressing doubt
that it can’t be irresistible.
On the seraphic shore
of the transcendent soul,
the supreme designer makes
the destined inner circuitry of ecstasy.
The pattern of piety creates
the innate magnetism of divine beauty,
attracts the concentrate of consciousness
out of the mortal elements
to the emancipating ardent aura
of all encompassing ambiance of bliss.
I am then the immutable hymn
of the sanctified soul,
that echoes in the melodic strata
of harmonic awareness of illumined love.
The devout mantra intoned
in the temple of my heart,
resonates with attractive symphony
of the sacred spirit.
The cosmic creator of the resounding silence
transcending time and space,
makes my awakened soul proclaim
the divine decree, I am He.