A miracle in all of nature found, when we see things through our own miraculous eyes and transcending hearts.
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Gravity holds the body; only the imagination holds the blueprints to transcend it.
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With me poetry is about subduing one's conditioned mental reflexes, and allowing purer inert forces to take control of the stylus. In short, poetry should be about transcending the physical into realms of the metaphysical. The heart of great writing is spiritual and not commercial. One must take the "I" out of a work as much as creatively possible.
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Know the difference between oppression & suppression. Oppression is overt, can easily be identified & “conquered”. Suppression happens in subtle realms of consciousness, is subconscious or unconscious. Many sophisticated, educated masculines, are involved in suppression of feminines for fear of descending into subconscious realm to unshackle masculine domination/control there. Unless we recognise how this suppression is exercised to retain egoic selves, we remain trapped in humanity’s prisons.
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You have been a place of refuge for a friend; now discover the place inside yourself where every disruption finds its momentary end, and murmurs of love gracefully ascend.
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“Men, when enthrall’d by the puissant tide of their own affections, are oft but humble clay, unshapen and earthbound; yet they who stand apart and behold such passions with contemplative eye are transmuted into poets. For thus it hath ever seem’d to me that the most guiding and heaven-breathed literature of the world descendeth unto us not in common speech, but array’d in the measured raiment of verse.”
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“He who tendeth first the hearth of his own soul,
doth rend the veil 'twixt self and all,
and in that silent concord, mercy ascendeth
as river, flame, and marrow through the bones of the world.”
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“As poets we need to understand how Time works so that we can interpret the interplay of different realities and dimensions. Time is within the 4th dimension or can be seen as a dimension within and of itself, which gives humans access to dimensions beyond the 3rd. Without a grasp of Time as play and illusion, know that transcending and ascension is impossible.”
©GhairoDanielsQuotes
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One look at Chicago makes you think it descended from giants. ~Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
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Men and women are like mountains and mountain climbers. Women are like high mountains. Men are like the climbers. When men have not ascended them, they dream of ascending them. When they have ascended them, they climb down with the determination either to ascend again or never again to ascend. . . depending on their experience while on top them. ~Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
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Your mental health transcends every other thing on your 'you've to take care list'.
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Truth doesn’t descend from above; it unfolds from below.
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I have some very old photographs, postcards -- the images have changed with age -- someday soon to be all gone -- life is like Polaroids, but faith and love above all, I truly feel in my heart, somehow transcend the lethal memory of time.
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You can tell who writes from the heart -- there is a living quality to those works transcending mere Intellectualism.
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Gold and titles do not follow us...but love transcends, seeding our souls with eternal beauty.
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Love, a divine gift from God, unites hearts and reveals His grace. It transcends words, offering solace in hardship and strength in weakness. Let's embody love's virtues, for in its embrace, we find purpose and connection to the divine.
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Kindness is a language understood by all, transcending all barriers; speak it often and fluently. - Aloo Denish Obiero
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Work, when infused with purpose, transcends mere tasks and becomes a legacy. -Aloo Denish Obiero
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Work, when infused with purpose, transcends mere tasks and becomes a legacy. ~Aloo Denish Obiero
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" We ascend thy ways that be in our heart, and sing a song of degrees; we glow Inwardly with thy fire, with thy good fire, and we go, because we go Upwards to the Peace Of Jerusalem" - Augustine
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I can be faithful, in the bible well read, yet feel profound sorrow and isolation. Transcending comfort gotten from absorption of divine text, we are creatures of inescapable human frailty. That is what separates us from God...and endears us to God.
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"In the realm of EchoVerse, where letters transcend their form,
Words become spells, and rhymes take shape like a storm.
With enchantment as my guide, I spin tales divine,
Like turning water to wine, through EchoVerse, words intertwine."
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Let forgiveness weave its golden thread, Healing wounds that once bled, For in its power, we transcend, And find love and peace, until the end.
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We don't have to see, to know that we are loved. Nor feel nor hear, for love transcends mortal senses.
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If the perception you assume is too distant from reality, just wasting time contemplating and transcending into foolish reasoning: brace yourself, it's time for a bitter dosage of awareness. Not confronting the problems you avoid for fear of the outcome can swerve your attention somewhere else and increase your fright.
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An awaken conscience transcends culture, race, mind and ego, to say the least
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As curiously formal as the rose,
the imperious Word grows
until it sheds red-gilded leaves:
then heaven grieves
love’s tiny pool of crimson recrimination
against God, its contention
of the price of salvation.
('Crescendo Against Heaven' by Michael R. Burch)
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She spoke
and her words
were like a ringing echo dying
or like smoke
rising and drifting
while the earth below is spinning.
She awoke
with a cry
from a dream that had no ending,
without hope
or strength to rise,
into hopelessness descending.
And an ache
in her heart
toward that dream, retreating,
left a wake
of small waves
in circles never completing.
('Circe' by Michael R. Burch)
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Sometimes we catch them out of the corners of our eyes—
the pale dead.
After they have fled
the gourds of their bodies, like escaping fragrances they rise.
Once they have become a cloud’s mist, sometimes like the rain
they descend;
they appear, sometimes silver like laughter,
to gladden the hearts of men...
('Sometimes the Dead' by Michael R. Burch)
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It is the nature of loveliness to vanish,
as butterfly wings, batting against nothingness,
seek transcendence ...
('Flight' by Michael R. Burch)
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