For The POET by DAY ~ Wednesday Writing Prompt ~ brightness beckons, a poem ~ Pilgrimage Towards The Light ~ Inspired by Dr Allama Iqbal’s Poem ‘Pilgrimage to Eternity’ ~

Watercolor by Gretchen Del RioIn the midway of this our mortal life,
I found me in a gloomy wood, astray…”
Inferno Canto 1, Durante (Dante) degli Alighieri

O Restless spirit what seekest thou , since
awareness dawned, in innocence encased
bits of paper became letters symbolic ,
what messages were lost and  received
unknown unseen till strange sounds
sailed through the cool silent breezes
and the heart beat faster,fingers grew cold

eyes roamed the boundless skies, finding no cuts or breaks
birds flew trembling fluttering closer to each other
as the golden ball seemed to sink out of sight, finding darkness
behind the eyes turned to the skies again, behold, bejeweled
was the roof with diamonds arranged, twinkling for long hours
becoming small, disappearing from vision yet still present
‘Know that they are still there’ only hidden by Light’

Hidden by Light? and a voice called ‘Allah ho Akbar’
The Greatest is He, Prayer is better than sleep
prayer is better than sleep’ and the sight descends
to touch the earth,flat dry strong stony rough solid
The heart beat faster again…

‘feel the inner strength,the magnetic touch the Light’
slight pain in the back I felt, head down, bent in
body slipping instantly, invisibly flying to nowhere
in semi darkness, I reached a room square in shape
a small window opening near the ceiling, a single bed
lay in the center, on the floor…I smoothed the folds of
the white sheet, satisfied that all was set, I returned…
or was brought back…I awoke …the light streamed on

‘He made the day  for work and night for rest, and the
day allowing sight ‘there was no chaos, all was pure
clean ethereal and with great speed…

I heard another voice, ‘not now later’ a voice so clear
the night slipped away making way for the lightc
it grew brighter moment by moment, the eyes
roamed from one end of the to the other,seeking
what dost thou seek?
I still don’t know…

the light grew yet brighter till
the glow was whiter than any light , blinding…
the appeared small shapes like people sitting on
the floor bowing towards one point…brightest in the center
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and ‘the gleam increased’ unbearable light’
the Lamp as it shone revealed more Light
and I felt weak in the limbs…
where are the stars of the night?

the rainbow in the clouds
the colors on the ground
the amazing shapes in clouds
carrying holding water drops

I sailed through and through
flew like a bird, who holds their
wings,held me too, no desire for
food nor thirst for a drink just nothing
yet so much…yet felt only …
unseen purity “Light Of Divine Love’

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For dVerse ~ POETS PUB – Jan 4 ~ Meet The Bar with Silence ~ Silence Rests Silently –

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unseen breeze
blows around
leaves, quiver
shake-

do not speak or-

sudden break-
the fall unseen
unheard-
no complaints-

do not speak or-

do they have a voice?
do they feel pain?
-they fall and fall again-
to grow back the same

hope there is if not sound
silence speaks on branch
or ground-
gathering rake-
rising smoke-
heaps abound

silence sleeps silently

For POETS UNITED Midweek Motif ~ 26 November 2017 ~ Flower ~ Rose ~

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O’ Dear Flower, folded
in invisible scents
tender covers
softly protecting
the unknown
wrapped in curves
like hands,a
praying pair
patiently serves
in quietude

O Dear Flower, resting
in a book,
making the page sacred
to the touch,words that rest too,forever silent, till they meet
the eyes, of an unknown, bear the flaps and caresses,
of moving finger tips, as the covers flip,

O Dear Flower, you are a rose of many colors
budding, blooming, on bush and bowers
in sunshine rain or cool summer showers
spread on shrouds taken to high towers

O’ Dear Flower’ how long can you stay
the fragrance radiate, the presence, comfort
the love share, If only you could, for ever be
and like the words lay for me to see

If ……

For POETS UNITED Midweek Motif ..Silence…The Silent Nest Manifests…

 

Once again it is the winter rain
so long awaited, as

clouds wander lonely,across the sky float and fly by,

sometimes they grumble sometimes they roar,

sometimes they thunder,sometimes they cry…

when the eyes meet the blues,the whites stand out,

changing shapes, design try

it is the season that leads and feeds winters are dry, gone are the leaves

but have you ever thought,who holds the birds afloat, who balances their wings

as they glide and whistle and sing,how their nest remains set, fixed ?

It is an Autumnal mystery

In silence stays the nest,no complaints against anything
how content the birds are, how tender is their living thing

on empty branches or in thick foliage, life is fine
in rain or sunshine, in silence they confine –

what little sounds they twittering make, is a prayer
for thanksgiving sake, grateful at morn and eve

regular and rare.

In The Small Hours

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In the small hours,

when

quiet are the bowers
and drowsy sleep overtakes,

 

visions with visible spaces
appear and keep me awake;
restlessness engulfs the soul
and I pray as

thoughts of someone float

stay deep and the
soul needs a reason to

believe and ask?

Please O’ Lord

keep

some time in life,

to make two spirits,  meet.

Ameen

NAPOWRIMO 2017 ~ Day Twenty Nine ~ He Listens Forgives, Again and Again…

Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about something that happens again and again (kind of like NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo). It could be the setting of the sun, or your Aunt Georgia telling the same story at Thanksgiving every single year. It could be the swallows returning to Capistrano or how, without fail, you will lock your keys in the car whenever you go to the beach.

wheIMG_20170219_170138_041n peace is just round the corner
which corner? a voice whispers…

the unseen
in the fog creeps silently sails by

when silence is just broken by chirps…
which birds?
a voice whispers…

 

the silent
trees sad yet sturdy, stay fixed
when food is scarce in shops full…
which bazaar?

a voice whispers… the hungry
on the road wipes the tears dry
when every night dogs bark and keep
barking…

who is it…a voice whispers
unseen yet visible
spirit …who listens

so hope must not die
as clouds shower,
do they cry? no…they bless
For they know we need them

So keep hoping, again
and again they come,
they are sent, with rain
ease away the pain….
keep praying