Short Vigil Poems
Short Vigil Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Vigil by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Vigil by length and keyword.
Little lights shine
Through darkness
Church bells rings
Down streets
Hand in hand
Sparks rise
Embers glow
From the flame
Of electric candles
Showing the way
This heavy shaded room,
Your rattle of difficult breaths;
I had to go out
And come back in correct,
To silent clocks
Tending your face
And lights gone out
All over.
The candles we light
as each person attends
our loved one now gone
but it's far from the end
Gone from the Earth
to live on elsewhere
watching over us
until we are there
Sunday
The Lord's day, celebrates the Eucharist
Day of the Resurrection
Christian family
Day of joy
Rest from work
Foundation
Kernel, the whole liturgical year
04052014
Form:
silence
across the table
sat with him
dressed in black
in the death of night
while his world slept
they waited there
refusing to slip quietly
in the hush of night
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
The Vigil (Octodil)
Late through the night
A flame burns oil.
He sits with weary eyes
In vigil by the bed.
She lies supine; soft is her breath,
Peaceful, serene her pallid face.
He sleeps; she breathes no more.
Oil-starved the flame goes out.
silence..
contemplation,
consecration-
tenderness
transforms
emotions,
impulses
feelings,
restricts. melancholy,
elicits
constraint
brings forth
integrity-
rapture
from.
ecstatic
torpor
Stillness seeds this cell
of death-borne illness,
underscores the needs
of one who cannot
function by himself.
Bedsheets icy white,
blooming flowers
in bright profusion
litter uselessly.
Monitors wink, blink
their indifference;
scant recognition,
little consolation for
a father and his
sorrow-stricken son.
Stillness seeds this cell
of death-borne illness,
underscores the needs
of one who cannot
function by himself.
Bedsheets icy white,
blooming flowers
in bright profusion
litter uselessly.
Monitors wink, blink
their indifference;
scant recognition,
little consolation for
a father and his
sorrow-stricken son.
Today is here, tomorrow is never promised,
Yesterday is gone , but never forgotten. Things happen for a reason no matter the season.
All good things come to those who wait, never does it it hesitate. Green and blue, black and gray blessed to have another day.
So remember today, pray for tomorrow, learn from the past or have you forgotten?
The Lord birth was on this day
we celebrate this day in many ways
All we know our Lord's true worth
Christmas Day is his true birth
Vows we made to reach anew
Giving thanks for all he knew
Families celebrate loud with song
Gathering together many strong
Let the songs of this day ring
Pray for peace this war we're in
Friends and families weep within
Shows we all believe in him.
Soul learning goes on,
until ego’s shorn,
desires negated
and fears sedated.
Since we're now alive,
it means desires thrive,
suppressed but not dead,
still by our heart fed.
Let's not self-appraise
pastures where fears graze
within our body,
filled with thoughts shoddy.
Make mindful our eye,
lest later we sigh,
on life's gift wasted,
bliss never tasted.
28-October-2022
They stand in fragile circles
Lighting candles for their dead
As the memories that float on the breeze
Are all that they have left
The tears that pass between them
Have a somber silence that's deafening
You can feel the souls they're crying for
Touch them on the winds of change
As they light another candle
Another day goes by
With the tears that keep on flowing
Where they are forced to wonder why
Let us talk about ligation.
I don’t want to push the –
searing boundaries trumpeting
the sexual orientation.
The butterflies and bees
are disappearing. A petri dish,
a test tube and artificial
thrust through the red lights.
An unbroken promise
lies in shambles.
Availing something less,
had been beyond the topic
of returning back to home.
The desert blooms again
with indignant cacti.
Satish Verma
This was a cooking Sunday;
A mushroom tarragon
French cuisine Sunday;
Where the rapture of Julia Child
Days of cooking, cooking, cooking
Rose deep from every pore,
With the bliss of adding
Unmeasured ingredients
And delight in the territory
Of rarely explored spices.
Feeling, sensing the mind
Going into a place of creative joy,
A place of quiet surrender,
With nothing left to do
But leave all behind.
"Bon appetit."
Midnight, faced again,
after failing once more to let yesterday go,
feels familiar—
like a night’s shadow resting,
its hands heavy with darkness.
Stung by the hard glare of a streetlight,
my shadow—myself—stretches out
and deliberately rummages through
bitter memories
blooming like pale gourd flowers.
The long night should leave
only after shaking loose its faded past,
yet my shadow keeps searching,
not ready
to let it pass.
Floaters swim in acrid clouds, I watch
myself killed by me, the image was real, oracular
ashen grey, sitting on a sand dune
I listen to the silence of bending and roaring faults,
the life repeats the mistake, possessed, chasing
the wheels, fever rising, the swish of a snake,
time; could not make it, daintly the moon drifts on
the dark contours, ripples of a lake, a flock
of birds turns inland into shadows of chorus
a small city of voices seeks freedom.
SATISH VERMA
Form:
She reaches out to touch me
A caress of ice or fire
I tense in fear
Not of her wrath
But that, of me she'll tire
My arrogance long left me
So humble here I quake
And pray the lash
To kiss my skin
And whisper my mistake
I know now my submission
Has proven me a liar
My trembling flesh
Against my bonds
Revealing my desire
I wait now in the darkness
I do not cry for light
But that my love
My Mistress
Will come to me tonight
On
the edge
of outburst,
we pause the cause
of stirrings within,
in stillness discerning,
where lies fulcrum of desire:
if suffused with love elixir,
we allow transition of our thought
into word and action; co-creation.
More oft than not, desires, ego driven,
spawning unnecessary karma
pursuing us life after life,
deflecting us from our goal,
to merge with love supreme.
Waste not time, hermit!
Live life fully,
lovingly,
in pure
bliss.
26-November-2020
Keep your vigil, whispers of gray -
Speak of what I do understand.
Assault the evil glare of day;
It doesn’t speak for my heart -
Rather for the city made of stone
Which knows no bounds of hate.
On this day, I’ve fallen apart;
No love for the pieces that remain.
It offers no comfort.
Your neutrality fills me whole;
Share my haven with this mute
Though you are harsh but truthful.
Engage me, oh - whispers of gray -
Until I can bear its façade -
I will bleed for a better day.