Poems about God
Eternity is a circular energy path;
for only a circle has no ending;
all you need do, is follow the math;
it keeps coming back to beginning.
Imagine it all, an invisible cloud;
comprised of all information.
All thoughts, are, within it, allowed;
from all eternity’s foundation.
The universe
…We think we face an exterior entity;
an outside world by reality defined;
one specifically crafted by divinity;
a work of the Master’s creative mind.
Have we forgotten what we were told;
that we’re made in the Master’s image;
do memories grow dim as we grow old;
We oft speak of where legs will carry;
as tho physical motion has relevance;
we endlesslly talk, till we grow wary;
tho usually lacking in eloquence.
We frequentlly say what’s on our mind;
as tho the mind has a physical place;
for it’s by location, all things are
Your will is the essence of all you imbue;
asserting, all you think, see, and feel;
the internal blueprint of all that is you;
that, which, lays claim you’re real.
Your will is at the very core of the soul;
over such, even death holds no power;
a sense
As actors on the grand global stage;
a backdrop change with each act;
we have scripts; are ready to engage;
interchanging illusions with fact.
Much mediocrity plays out on stage;
actors often forgetting their lines;
still, doing their very best to engage;
by plays in life, all reality’s defined.
Reality’s an infinite, eternal landscape;
in which, all lives reside;
a house, from which, none can escape;
even those who’ve tried.
We currently live in one of its rooms;
a separate reality, it seems;
tho we think, past and future, looms;
they’re a part of present’s
The Master warned that evil be resisted;
espescially egredious, was capitulation;
for the evil one, must never be assisted;
no matter what, may be the situation;
Some evil ones are easy to resist;
for they never even bother to hide;
others masquerade to gain our assist;
hiding their evil inside.
I don’t need to spread my sorrow;
there’s already enough to go round;
when I awaken upon the morrow;
grumbling, before my feet hit ground.
I don’t need to complain about anything;
an abundance of complaints exists;
besides; what good will complaining bring;
only more and more
