The Miracle
The Miracle
| There is a majestic quality- In everyone for all to see. Some keep it hidden, some never realize- The magnificence they hold in others' eyes. Ah, yes, life itself is the gift. Though the memory, itself, Time doth sift. And some might think the reverence gone- As those we love one by one pass on. But the intricacies Fate doth weave- In commemoration for all who grieve. Are the blessings given to rebirth- From souls no-longer of this earth. At first notice I came undone, My father staring at me through my son. But, now, in joy I ascertain- Through him, my father lives again. I look to heavens' resounding grace- Renewed appreciation of life and my place. Knowing as each newborn child opens their eyes- The miracle continues, no one really dies. |
A Book Of Memories
A Book Of Memories
| Hidden in the attic, all the way upstairs, is something very special, that I would like to share. My hopes, my dreams, old photographs, of good times and bad times that make me laugh. The joy of a hug, the thrill of a kiss, leaves me to remember the pure, simple bliss. I cry for the fun, and giggle for the pain, I enjoyed the good life I was able to maintain. The thoughts and wishes, they all stay with me, all of these contained in my book of memories. |
Door To Decision
| We come from a turbulent past To an info-age moving way to fast The fate of these lands Is now placed in our hands Will we bring destruction to an end Will we have the power to mend Save this fragile dreamland Wash away our footprints in the sand Global warming is causing weather changes right before our eyes But we still blacken our skies Sunrays take less time to burn our faces But we still destroy our rain forests and just leave empty spaces The men spill out of the factories everywhere Punching their time clocks basically unaware Don�t realize what's happening to the big picture The massive devastation of the atmospheric mixture Every day go through their daily motions Waiting it out for measly promotions Distant stares and silent prayers Monday to Friday . . . say goodbye Our oceans are slicked with oil spills Our waterways full of toxic waste that kills We build our cities on mountains of pollution Without an environmental solution We live our lives in search of wealth In the process damage our good health Crime stories are found on every newspaper page People loosing control in an uncertain age The victims of greed are getting younger In a world that still allows their hunger Our petty problems make us hang down our heads While million's go unfed Desire unfolds the light of our day But we cannot give in to the subtle decay We must rise above the haze descending Toward mass action mending We must take control of our actions today or the children of tomorrow will be the one's to pay The new innkeepers shall soon take charge of the next generation�s voyage at large Trends are patterned and patterns trended But man's damage must be ended! |
Fifteen Crosses
Fifteen Crosses
| I had a dream I was kneeling, at fifteen crosses on the hill Not a whisper from the trees, everything was still, I felt a sadness in my heart, an empty kind of pain, Fifteen souls had gone away, only memories remained. I tried to cry out to ease my grief, Lifted my hands to heaven, prayed God's relief. Not a sound or a word, emptiness abounds, My sorrow overcoming, I began to drown. Such bitter suffocation, I wish someone could hear, Why we let this happen , in my dream nothing was clear. I shook my fist to heaven and begged for reasons why, But only silence spoke, offering no reply. No sound came from my lips even as I screamed, I prayed it's just a nightmare, an awful kind of dream. Then I heard a choir of angels beckoning from above. "The world is reaping hatred," "Because the world's not sowing love." "You should embrace each other's differences no matter what they may be," "And enlighten each other with the hope of peace and unity." When the angel finished speaking, she ended with a sigh, Gazing down at fifteen crosses of fifteen souls who said goodbye. Then the heavens opened up, the angels giving way, up to the gates of heaven, Amazing grace began to play. And as they left this Earthly realm the angels were downhearted looking back at fifteen crosses of the recently departed. A soft rain began falling, but no cloud was in the sky, Then Jesus whispered to me, "This is how the angels cry." |
100 Best Poems on Life - Standing Alone by Chase
Standing Alone
| I can see the flower upon which my life grows, blooming into a rose. See the hope and courage in the strength of the petals. As long as I am, I will be. The flower will never wilt or die. As my life grows back, I shall become strong. I shall become only dependent on one. That one will be me. I will rise with my petals high. My life as a flower will bloom and prosper as I grow. I may not be the pick of the patch, but I am just as beautiful as the rest. I will stand as one, but not a lonely soul. The tears will be far from my smile. |
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