A single white rose
rests within morning’s murmur~
soft-scented, still,
its silken hush shimmering
like a shy soul seeking speech.
Light leans along its edges,
a slow, silver slip of dawn
drifting down each petal.
The air around it listens,
leaning into the low, lilting glow
the bloom seems to breathe.
I trace its tender spiral~
that subtle swirl of becoming,
that circle of calm
carved from cold earth and
the long, lonely labor of growth.
Even the stem
holds a quiet strength,
a slender spine of green
gathering the grace
to lift what is luminous
from what is lost.
And still~
the rose remains a whisper,
a white-winged witness
to the world’s wandering sorrows.
It stands in its soft solitude,
shining through the ache,
offering only openness,
only the fragile faith
of unfolding.
A single white rose~
a small, steadfast star
rooted in soil,
rising toward sky,
reminding the moment
that beauty, even bruised,
blooms.
Thousands of candles lit.
They form hazy clouds
They gather, unseen,
in the hush between pews
where people were praying.
I felt them even as candles flickered
I looked around as I heard their prayers.
Each heart bent but did not break.
They were the echo of endurance,
They expounded their faith
Except for a few that hid
in the dim corridors of doubt.
I saw most of the candles dimming,
Smoke rose and wonder what memory carries.
High in the vault clouds gather.
I wondered about faith and doubt.
I knelt down and fervently prayed.
God, please give me light.
We came for the night…
but the night ended up witnessing something far more beautiful:
us, together.
The night the universe paused just long enough
for sisterhood to take the most beautiful photograph of itself —
a single frame where smiles bloom like constellations,
arms linked beneath golden city lights.
This isn’t just a selfie.
This is what it looks like when women choose each other on purpose,
hearts wide open, laughter spilling into the dark.
When friendship stops being something you do
and becomes something you wear like warmth on your skin,
a living glow that wraps every soul in the circle.
The glow you see isn’t from the streetlights.
It’s from every heart in this frame refusing to let another shine alone —
radiant, unbreakable, chosen.
In this frozen breath of time,
we are the light, the love, the legacy,
sisters captured in perfect, golden harmony.
In the field of oneness, we alone are,
the quintessence of consciousness aflame,
as the light that lights each and every star,
being the all that is that bears no name,
navigating dream domains as a game.
From the stillness fulcrum we behold all,
dance of polarities heeding God’s call.
The Moon is my witness
the night you said you loved me true
and twinkling stars looked down
and heard it too
Passing clouds carried the news
straight to my heart
which etched in your spoken words
that we would never part
A creeping Badger
looked up and frowned
seeing us together
not making a sound
Kissing and Cuddling
like lovers do
holding each other tightly
as a gentle wind blew
As the Moon is my witness
I will never forget
the look in your eyes
and will never regret
saying I love you
as was my reply
and I would never leave you
till the day I die
Those twinkling stars
have mapped out my heart
as our love reaches a crescendo
like cupids flying dart
you say that our love is forever
eternity at least
sat here in the wooded darkness
like Beauty and the Beast
The Beast as a witness
Even the camel saw the rot in you,
A beast who knew your spirit was unkind;
He struck you down as any witness would,
Leaving your hollow threats and pride behind.
You were a man who lived to wound and scar,
Who spent your years as shadow and as thorn;
But your worst work, the deepest, darkest cut,
Was when you left me, disowned and forlorn.
For even the beast had the insight to see,
The monster you hid while you haunted me
"If even a beast knew your soul was a shell,
We leave you to rot in the furnace of hell."
418.
Do Not Bear False Witness
Sometimes we speak evil of others
Some are harmful, we cannot reverse
When the damage is done
And there's nowhere to run
Our conscience calls us to retract
Those wicked words to those we detract
So be careful we must when speaking!
-12/02/2014
(Dumarao)
*25th Daily Reflection from Catechism Booklet
I watched the Shahed drones
Flying along the coast
In the Gulf's misty haze
Like grey birds in
Seasonal swirl.
I never doubted
Where they were going
And why?
Since the war began
Burning Iran with jungle fever
Their multiple operations
Darkening the sky
With oil rains blanketing the sky,
I knew it was an existential threat
And our children would grow in bondage
If deterrence failed and that
Was the message of Shahed drones.
Mother, I saw the bewildered eyes that couldn't tell their neighborhood from
Gaza, and ears tuned to the whining bombs and drones that whirl above incessantly,
wreak, burn, decimate, with scientific precision. And then someone showed me the CNN
headline news "Collateral damage," our new unsavory adjective.
Oh mother, I saw you cheering above the clouds our brave citizens, defying the bombs, marching with fists of iron, homage to the majesty of Iran, marking a new mythology.
And now I hear your voice: Give them a helping hand, and lift them beyond their sorrow and grief, above this raging smoke of fire engulfing the city. The rain shall come and washes the smoke and the tears.
I employ your faith mother, wounded by the shattered windows, yet persevering, and proud.
The world clearly see
Zionists and Zionism,
it witness their end
Return to me once more, dear memory
Evermore fairly than a sightless dream,
E’en dreams relax upon the emery
Of sable nights unto death’s garment seams,
It seems to me fair memory, you dote
Upon the day and behold the frameless
Image of mere moments; mere soundless notes,
And what you behold is held so shameless,
Lest you forget the day once lived by me;
The day once past. Not to pass by your eye,
Far be it settled in comfort but seen,
So let the past be not passed along to die,
Yet, recollected in a way not lived
By present’s eye; by what I will forgive.
Everythings dark?
Where's the light?
Everybody's wrong!
Whose right?
And I don't know,
which way to go
Release it
Don't quit
Relinquish
Release it
Receeding
receiving
I am become a child of witness
Everything covered?
Where is the emancipation?
Everything holy
Where is
Release it
Don't quit
Relinquish
Release it
Receeding
receiving
3/28/26
Written words by James Edward Lee, Sr
Such a testament that I commit.
Enthralled with voices in my head,
could it be God? Angels or demons
Regulate the thought. My sin paid for bought
I have bottomed out. but yet I stand on top
I ranish the perception, I am reverencing.
The right attention, such a testament I witness
3/2/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
Everything about you will change over time.
Your habits. Your energy. Your enthusiasm.
The way you run around the house now — one day, it will slow.
Simple things may begin to feel heavy.
One day, you might outgrow your specialty —
coffee with two pumps of whipped cream.
The hopeless romantic in you
might even fall in love with horror.
Your face will befriend wrinkles,
and your hair will turn pearly white.
Everything about you will change over time.
But the look in your eyes when they meet mine —
that shall remain untouched.
And I shall stand by you,
the lone witness to it all.
I don’t fade
I rot quietly
I am here so long
the world forgets I arrived
Eyes pass through me
not by accident
by practice
like I was trained into the background
a human-shaped absence
I learned early
that silence is safer
that wanting too much gets you erased faster
so I shrink
and shrink
until even my shadow gives up on me
People talk over my chest
laugh through my ribs
step where my heart should be
and never feel a thing
Being invisible isn’t peaceful
it’s violent
it’s being ignored so hard
it starts to feel intentional
like a punishment no one admits giving
I scream sometimes
inside my skull
until my thoughts bruise
but nothing leaks out
because even pain knows
I’m not worth announcing
If I vanished tonight
no ghosts would be made
no chairs left empty
no silence noticed
Just a gap
that was already there
And the worst part
is not that no one sees me
It’s that I’m starting
not to see myself either
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.