Realm Poems - Poems about Realm

In the same realm where the flight of birds once lifted me high, Now my wings are broken, and their song is but a whisper, A symphony once, now a cold wind through dried branches, The trills, balm for the heart, become echoes of pressing silence. The trees change colors like fragmented dreams, A palette reflecting my stagnation in frozen...

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simply observing waves arising and subsiding we feel God’s presence within each pulse hiding lower mind is rested so no meanings are assigned to play of life in motion by soul’s eye divined as the vital force benign bliss magnetism we witness all refractions in body-mind prism thus as both this and that in time our heart is thawed our soul lotus blossoms upon giving love our nod...

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As she raised her translucent, fairy’ish wing, allowing the moonbeams to pass through the chiffon fluttered gleefully waving to the lightening bugs, ‘twas then the magic began; To behold such elegance amidst the night Caused me to ponder the fate of her, will you stay, dear sir? Can a sight this luxurious continue to last I wondered while observing the interchange...

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In a realm of tranquil illusions, weary spirits find thrones of comfort, Lives frozen in monotonous dances, dolls forgotten in the windows of dead time, Middle-aged souls, ghosts of lost hope, nestle into routine, The leaden embrace of stagnation promises them an eternity of divine peace. Deep within the soul, fear sneaks in like an underground stream, The fear that...

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Kiss her only if your gaze can open the gates to a fairytale realm, where your lips unravel mysteries hidden beneath the cosmic dust of time, where her body is not just a sanctuary but a universe waiting to be explored, where her tongue is an arena of silent conflicts, woven with the names of ghosts. She has burned...

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Time waits for no one. Isn’t that great? If it waited on us, it would end up too late. We think we’re the master of our time controlled realm, But Time is the faster man at the helm. What we witness now is already gone. When? Where? and How? is the ultimate con. When we’re young and naïve, we set ourselves...

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In life's crucible, I succumbed to a mystic trance, Where ephemeral allurements enthralled my soul's dance, The spirit beckoned, and I wandered into the heart Of "Akamara's" ancient tree, a realm of mystic art. Within its boughs, a world of wonder waited to unfold, A realm of supernatural beings, with powers to mold, Their feast was ambrosia, their waters crystal clear, A...

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In a realm of shadows and fears, footsteps tread unceasingly, Small fears like dried leaves gather beneath the steps of autumn, I am not a person, but a lost dream, among desires and shivers, I fear small, ordinary, human things, like a wandering stranger. I love adventures, transformations flow like a river to the unknown, Yet I resist when opportunity...

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I've never been a groupie, and I never ever shall be. They mindlessly follow, no thought of their own. They think what they're told, then call it the truth, But I can't follow, I must think, no matter the cost. But when I say what I think, they cry out, they resist. If I try to explain, it only...

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Stretching outer limits of incredulity beyond realm of logic In an attempt to recount how life came about on planet Earth, thence subsequently spanning across the webbed wide world birthed cockamamie idea within mind of then young Matthew Scott Harris, who knew nothing about Charles Darwin Origin of Species controversial revolutionary annunciation with much excitation videre licet painstakingly slow process of...

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In the realm of dreams we wander, Crafting worlds both bright and somber. Lost in illusions we have spun, Entwined with shadows, every one. The dreamer crafts each fleeting scene, Woven with whispers, soft, serene. Yet dreams themselves hold mystic might, Born from our thoughts, both day and night. How do we wake from this deep trance? When reality seems to dance? Both creator and...

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The silver moon rises full in a benevolent glow...like a lamp hanging from a ceiling of stars and lights the stairs through a window as we ascend to another world filled with candles and fresh-cut roses awaiting our entrance to this romantic realm where we'll light each candle so our hearts can see the intimacy of stillness ...

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From a realm where everything is different, where no one is concerned with themselves, Yet all remain true to the task: to part from their native land, My city, with its customs, people, houses, leaves, and rains, Is so deeply imprinted on my retina, like a tattoo on my chest. A stranger in language and appearance, one day, God...

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Asclepius, one cannot build from sand, Such light and shifting grains as mortals be. The wind and tide shall warp what e’er is planned, Foundations fade before the pounding sea. And yet, when grains of sand flow through my hand, I smile at warmth and richness I know not. Through falling columns have the sea I scanned, As through a fog, and...

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Better not to search too deep in the shadows that envelop us in the quest for another realm, For the panacea offered by illusions and promises remains just a dream of escape, Anesthetizing us in forgetfulness or finding ephemeral islands in the arms of deceptive love, Where promises are chains, and the eyes that gaze upon us hide...

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