First the Prophet spoke to my bones
and dawn filled my cells but made no flower of me;
simply planted seed to smile through branchy veins
thorny patches had to be pushed through
while listening to the call of sun to rise
above scritch and scratch that would have me
knuckle down or shrivel
yielding my body to seasons’ sway and whip,
I knew reason for dancing, with veils of shadow and light,
for there is solace and wisdom in both;
in bending towards and standing against
a breeze, a breath, a whisper
sharing my sweetness to those who thirsted,
giving scent to those who were blind,
sharing petals with those under glass,
knowing my roots were being shook from soil
but willing, until but one was left to hold me
a tie to Mother Earth, tenuous, yet tangled
in good belief that I can be saved
if I but bear this
I am soul, one of every smiling face around me. I nod
in greeting brothers and sisters, fathers, mothers;
kin in garden who each have their place
and ways to impart their own sacred piece of God.
We are all Gods and Goddesses; children, in feather,
in fur, in foliage, in wet mouthed lake, and we are seen
by our struggle to keep His face in view.
Author notes
A nightingale with a beautiful voice
Sang by a stream: 'You can make a flower
Of jewels and gold, even add perfume,
But it won't have a flower's true bloom.
#1880: From Rumi's Kolliyaat-e Shams-e Tabrizi
Then a ploughman said, "Speak to us of Work."
And he answered, saying:
You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth. …It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.
-The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran
Like a blooming night flower,
Bestow your vital fragrance of happiness
And giving
Upon our intimate assembly.
- All the Hemispheres - Hafiz
In a list
A contest entry
- Divine Ruminations by Alexander Hine.
324 points, ended June 5, 2007, 15 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Thankyou for entering this little contest of mine. I will return to comment on everyone's poems later, but for now just a thankyou.
K. F. -
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ty K.F. for the contest and the trophy, but more... thank you for having us delve into our truths.
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"sharing my sweetness to those who thirsted,
giving scent to those who were blind,
sharing petals with those under glass,
knowing my roots were being shook from soil
but willing, until but one was left to hold me"
Magnificent, my Friend...Cell deep, indeed...Your writing comes from a cellular level, from the depths of your shining soul...Good luck in the contest, Sweetie...
Wanda
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ty, dear friend....I lubs ya....you would recognize because it takes one to know one..
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Nice poem of spirit to gorw in flower to open...
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I have a whole bouquet..and I have named them "friends".
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