The White Feather Poem by Ernestine Northover
A pure white feather floats silently towards the ground.
As it lands, I pick it up,
and rest it gently in the palm of my hand.
Perhaps it’s a delicate fragment from an Angel’s wing,
possibly, a token of heavenly love,
or maybe, I see it as my own delight in a gentle white feather.
But as my eyes alight on this fragile plume,
my spirit lifts,
and I have a feeling
that my Guardian Angel is near me,
and is ever watchful.
I believe this perception will always stay with me,
and each time I glimpse a pure white feather
I will offer thanks to my
imperceivable protector.
A Nature Lover’s Diary Poem by omar ibrahim
i love the river between the banks
beshrew a drinker who doesn’t give thanks
i love the breeze hitting my face
it’s from my God, a very huge grace
i love the culver flying free
holding a branch of an olive tree
i love the sun of a shiny day
throwing on my flower a pure, yellow ray
i love the penguin standing on the ice
i love the cat chasing the the mice
i love the nature.it’s beautiful and great
beshrew a beholder who doesn’t meditate
. I Can’T Stop Loving Her! (Dark Poem by Eyan Desir
Behind her doors, live a pool of joy.
Whiles smiles cover our face
A mist of confusion
Awaits at our gates
After days of gladness
The bitterness of love kicks in
Like hungry dogs we fight!
Spitting words that can break a heart!
Like branches we fall apart
Her memories torture my head
Loneliness keeps creeping in
Whiles love sucks the air I breathe
My mind finds it difficult
To erase her sweet memories
Enough my heart surrenders!
I’m back knocking on her doors.
Again Thanks-I-Am-Giving~~~~~(Ghazal) Poem by Susan Williams
In my life there is room after room of good things
my man is one room for whom thanks-I-am-giving.
.
I do not know what good seeds I have been sowing
but for not reaping from my bad deeds thanks-I-am-giving.
.
Every day my life kite through the sky is tripping
and through good times and bad times is zipping but thanks-I-am-giving.
.
The morning breeze a brand new essence is bringing
and blessings like flowers are budding and blooming and thanks-I-am giving.
.
When adventure comes a-horseback and hoofbeats are reigning
then the hills are ringing and singing with thanks-I-am-giving.
If I Weep Poem by Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
If I weep, if I come with excuses, my beloved puts cotton wool in his ears.
Every cruelty which he commits becomes him, every cruelty which he commits I endure.
If he accounts me nonexistent, I account his tyranny generosity.
The cure of the ache of my heart is the ache for him; how shall I not surrender my heart to his ache?
Only then are glory and respect mine, when his glorious love renders me contemptible.
Only then does the vine of my body become wine, when the wine-presser stamps on me and spurns me underfoot.
I yield my soul like grapes under the trampling, that my secret heart may make merry,
Though the grapes weep only blood, for I am vexed with this cruelty and tyranny.
He who pounds upon me puts cotton wool in his ears saying, “I do not press unwittingly.
If you disbelieve, you are excusable, but I am the Abu’l Hikam [the expert] in this affair.
When you burst under the labor of my feet, then you will render much thanks to me.”
Thank You Dad (Father Father Father Father) Poem by Udiah (witness to Yah)
Dad,
A great many thanks for all you have done
Without you my life would not have begun
You have been there when I most needed you
You have helped to guide me my whole life through
We have shared both the good times and the bad
But most of all, thank you for being my dad
I love you
A Mountain Speaks Poem by James B. Earley
That distant valley
Far below
Was I…as a child
……..Eons ago
I’ve known great happiness
Shared…such strife
As that of the dinosaur
Struggling for life
From a simple existence
I’ve seen Man grow
In the scheme of evolution
I’ll watch……him go
I question……my being
Invariably…I find
…..A mere speck of sand
On……God’s beach…of time
Author’s note: The poem addresses Mt. Tamalpais, geographically to the immediate north of San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge. (The Mountain is sometimes known as ‘The Sleeping Maiden, ‘ of Native American legend.) From my home, overlooking the northeastern perimeter of San Francisco Bay, I am blessed with a spectacular panorama of this magnificent creation! Viewing the Mountain, north to south, one can imagine the figure of a reclining female with an abundance……of long…flowing hair.
During periods of intense reflection, considering the Mountain….its splendor…its circumstance…its aggregate history…its future…its reticent humility…and the arrogant juxtaposition of Mankind, I often wondered, should the Mountain speak…What would it have to say? This work is the manifestation of untold hours of meditative thought…….a spiritual rendition of extraordinary…..time….and place!
Thanks to Rani Turton……whose observation was the catalyst inspiring the author’s remark….
I Have A Fire For You In My Mouth Poem by Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
I have a fire for you in my mouth, but I have a hundred seals
on my tongue.
The flames which I have in my heart would make one mouth-
ful of both worlds.
Though the entire world should pass away, without the world
I possess the kingdom of a hundred worlds.
Caravans which are loaded with sugar I have in motion for
the Egypt of nonexistence.
The drunkenness of love makes me unaware whether I have
profit of loss therefrom.
The body’s eye was scattering pearls because of love, till now
I have a pearl-scattering soul.
I am not housebound, for like Jesus I have a home in the fourth
Heaven.
Thanks be to Him who gives soul to the body; if the soul
should depart, yet I have the soul of the soul.
Seek from me that which Shams-e Tabrizi has bestowed, for
I have the same.
Birthday, Birthday, Happy Birthday Poem by Udiah (witness to Yah)
This is a very special day
Your friendship has filled my life far beyond what words can say
I give thanks to the Lord for sending you my way
That’s why we celebrate today
Happy Birthday!
Let These Be Your Desires
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself
But if your love and must needs have desires,
Let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook
That sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
And give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer
For the beloved in your heart
And a song of praise upon your lips.