God is beauty poem

by Glenn Johnson
(Tucson, Arizona, USA)

WALKING IN BEAUTY

Beauty . . . east

Beauty . . . north
Beauty . . . south . . .
Beauty . . . west . . . spiritual world revealing
Beauty . . . above and below
the Creator’s universe always complete.

Walking in beauty . . . no matter how blind.
True amazement
Always walked in beauty no matter how blind.

The weighted world:
crawled, hunched, trudged, so easily exhausted
Faithful prayers in a long dark trail of tears
Broken heart, back carried
Leaned, rested against ever present beauty.

How is this?
Abandonment tears had blindly fallen on Creator's beauty.
How is this?

No weighted worry you
Blind eyes opened by me
Heart opened by me.

Beauty . . . east
Beauty . . . north
Beauty . . . south
Beauty . . . west . . . spiritual world revealing
Beauty . . . above and below
Creator’s universe of beauty always complete.

My time had come
Life renewed arrived
Just in time to see you walking in Creator's beauty.

Click through for a prose poem by webmaster Katherine T Owen: You are beautiful

tags: God s beauty, creator, poetry, poem, spirituality, spiritual experience

Your Spiritual Importance

by Robert Gresak
(South Africa)

THE RECEPTACLE

It contains the secret of the ages.
Written upon its indelible pages
is the wisdom of a thousand sages.

Well and truly hidden it remains
and never can it bear blemish or stains.
Only when the one concerned obtains
by dint of years long persevering effort
the key to access it will be granted
into its awesome reality.

This mysterious place is not distant
or of no consequence or irrelevant,
it is so very real-so very near,
and though so hidden feels every joy,
knows every sad tear.

Man himself is the receptacle
and its altar is forever divinely lit.
The place - his eternal purest spirit.

tags: spiritual importance, poetry, individual, reality, hidden, experience

Near Death Experience Poem

by Ian Moore
(Pennsylvania, USA)

I once had a near death experience
Not the kind that we have every night
Flashing lights mixed with astral flight
Where the ego dies and takes on different identities
Of past births, remnants, appendages of consciousness waving like sea anemones
Twisting turning, a gut wrenching scream that's as quiet as a mute
As loud as a nuke
A lone wolf stands on the edge of a cliff crying out to a sky with no moon
Break free from
Make a fist out of three thumbs
Walking in the midst of an oasis of tree stumps
Is this freedom or bondage
Self inflicted
Ego’s constricted
So I pay homage
Claustrophobic but there's no walls
I’m homosapian phobic
Memories page like photo albums
I don't want to relive those moments
How does a gum wrapper lead to a child's birth?
A scrunchie lead to a plague?
How do the choices I make last month
Influence the ones I make today?
Injected with joy
Gone is the calamity
Have I passed on?
Or is this the first step towards insanity?
blissed out more than any smack addicts day job
It’s too late to fix how I lived
But one thing's certain there's only one rule to live by
That’s live in the now
But can I even say live?
I offered my body as a severance pay
To those who I have sinned
The elderly woman who I cut in line
The man who I didn't return a smile to
If I was still alive I would be so vile
But pain and suffering don't exist where I reside
So I feel like this whole death thing is all really worthwhile
As I fly by shrouded in the anointed one's breath
Cloaked in Buddha's thoughtlessness
I notice a newspaper stand a little bit to the left
As I read the text began to grow like a metropolis
Adjusting to my new flying apparatus
I realized I neither had to slow down or have any place to go to
The headline on the front page read
God charged for reckless endangerment
A three car pile up
The picture under the headline seemed so familiar
This is god, and he commits crimes?
In a moment I awoke to a voice
It’s a good thing that you had buckled up

A-spiritual-journey-of-healing.com’s Choice of Books Of Inspirational Poems Go here to see Books of Spiritual Poems from Mystics of many traditions From Amazon USA From Amazon UK

The Shades Were All Mine - spritual writing

by Stevie Gilmore www.steviegilmore.com
(Swindon, Wiltshire, UK)

Prism

Light, I saw, came in many shades.
Sometimes I was shocked to find that the brighter the light, the darker the shadow.

Now I see the truth in all light.
Now, through someone else's eyes, I observe that the shades were all mine and mine alone.
Now, I have done with shadows after all.

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