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Natalie Broomfield Poem
I hear the sound of silence, its beauty now surrounds me
like an icy wind, its perfect. It cuts me to my core and reveals the things I want.
Like the brutal realities of a frozen Tundra, is the stillness of my soul at this moment.
Silence cannot be worn, silence cannot be marred. It casts down imaginations of our most putrid desires.
Its breathtaking wisdom knows no bounds. It has no respect for the wealthy and powerful.
It treats all men like equals. Silence is always present.
The never-ending quest for now.
This moment…this moment…this perfect moment.
The excitement of the moment, the glory of now.
My soul fills with satisfied anticipation, knowing, that silence, brings greatness.
Copyright © Natalie Broomfield | Year Posted 2018
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Natalie Broomfield Poem
I walk down the cold damp cobblestone path. I head straight toward the judges' courthouse. The gas street lanterns light up my way. With every step, I feel a sense of foreboding. What looms for me in the courthouse? Who is the judge? Will he know all the steps which I have counted to arrive?
As my feet pound the cobblestones they echo with the sound of eternity.
Nothing but judgement lies ahead of me.
I'm here...I have arrived.
With my breath quick and my heart pounding, I push open the heavy wooden door as its loud creek warns me of judgement.
I stand frozen, the judge and I look at each other, he motions me to come to him.
With every step, I am purified. All my calamities fall by the wayside.
I am finally right in front of him.
He pardons me and I am forgiven. I had to come, but only on his terms.
Copyright © Natalie Broomfield | Year Posted 2018
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Natalie Broomfield Poem
Walking down the street of the divine,
I see a length of space, between the here and time.
Mysteries abound, and clarity is real,
but it's not all how you think, and it's not all how you feel.
Distance is a thing, I can measure in my heart,
hearing thinking speaking, it's all of it, a part.
Planets constellations, and heaven now as well,
the gates are open wide, so all could see and tell.
If anything is hidden, if anything is blurred,
it's by your own demise, and in that darkness spurred.
Heaven's gates are calling, angels sing aloud,
calling to the humble, keeping out the proud.
Come into his presence,
come into his light,
surrender all the fighting,
and rest in arms so tight.
The end is the beginning, the beginning now the end
you've made a friend forever, a love that will not bend.
Copyright © Natalie Broomfield | Year Posted 2018
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