An Angel Of Love
Often, I just need to clear my mind;
too much clutter tends to confuse;
the loves of my life; left me behind;
and, a new love became my muse.
I think of her often, most every day;
to her; I’m someone she knows;
she can’
1110 posts in
GOD
Poems about God
The Linear Life
Life is energy in various manifestations;
created solely by the mind of thought;
love was the bedrock of life’s foundations;
physicality was the illusion, wrought.
We think of reality as three dimensional;
length; width; and height;
but, reality is much more consequential;
with morning, noon, and
Dreams Of Reality
I look out the window; upon a field of green;
an empty two acres, across the road;
focused, for a moment, on reality’s dream;
with fatigue; my mind is on overload.
Reality is one of life’s unsolved dramas;
how did it all come to be;
New Leaves, Heaven Bound
Whatever happened to my yesterday;
it seemed such a short time ago;
time has transformed; becoming today;
springtime has melted the snow.
The landscape of life; constantly changing;
the snowfall; now transformed to rain;
the backdrop on life’s stage; rearranging;
sunrise; then sunset; again and
Natural Leaders
Some are just born leaders; by nature;
it is their eternal gift in life;
they rarely seek out such nomenclature;
above vicissitudes and strife;
They are truly the angelic beings;
created by the Master, above;
filtered down from the world, unseen;
forged on the anvil of love.
Although
…Principality Of Darkness
We think the universe is a physical reality;
though it all is just energy, instead;
life was created in kingdoms of duality;
with holographic graves for the dead.
Consciousness is the energy called life;
from its thoughts, all things became;
the Master created an illusion from light;
The Faith Of A Child
Faith is described, a great many ways;
a baby only knows how to cry;
later they act in their own school plays;
leaving, without saying goodbye.
A baby learns quickly to trust; a Father;
only faith can stop its squalling;
babies don’t cry, just
Every Word That I Write
I feel I’ve walked for two thousand miles;
nearly two million words; my destination;
a quest of hundreds of thousands of trials;
before death becomes my vacation.
Several have told me; numbers mean nothing;
only the quality of writing is germane;
and yet, my