god

The Hymn of Man

Gill Washington Kahlil Gibran, Poems , , 0 Comment

Kahlil Gibran

I was,
And I am.
So shall I be to the end of time,
For I am without end.

I have cleft the vast spaces of the infinite, and
taken flight in the world of fantasy, and drawn nigh
to the circle of light on high.
Yet behold me a captive of matter.
I have hearkened to the teachings of Confucius,
and listened to the wisdom of Brahma, and sat
beside the Buddha beneath the tree of knowledge.
Behold me now contending with ignorance and
unbelieving.

I was upon Sinai when the Lord showed Himself
to Moses. By the Jordan I beheld the Nazarene’s
miracles. In Medina I heard the words of the
Apostle of Arabia.

Behold me now a prisoner of doubt.
I have seen Babylon’s strength and Egypt’s glory
and the greatness of Greece. My eyes cease not
upon the smallness and poverty of their works.
I have sat with the witch of Endor and the priests
of Assyria and the prophets of Palestine, and I cease
not to chant the truth.

I have learned the wisdom that descended on
India, and gained mastery over poetry that welled
from the Arabian’s heart, and hearkened to the
music of people from the West.
Yet am I blind and see not; my ears are stopped
and I do not hear.

I have borne the harshness of unsatiable
conquerors, and felt the oppression of tyrants and the
bondage of the powerful.
Yet am I strong to do battle with the days.
All this have I heard and seen, and I am yet a
child. In truth shall I hear and see the deeds of
youth, and grow old and attain perfection and
return to God.

I was,
And I am.
So shall I be to the end of time,
For I am without end.

Read more  Kahlil Gibran poems

Index of poets on Allspirit

 

this and that

Gill Washington Poems, Yosy Flug , , , 0 Comment

 

Yosy Flug

this and that

This
Anonymous passerby
This
Ragged long haired freak
Asking wordlessly for lunch leftovers
This snobby lady
Walking the poodle
This
Murderous terrorist
Cornered in an ambush
And this bunch of commandos closing
On a kill
This
Crawling distorted legless beggar
This
Haughty faced policeman
This
Transvestite whore
Selling her wares at the sea front
This
Smiling toothless vendor
All of them
Without exception
Each and every one
And you too
Is
A perfect to the core
Image
Of the one and only
All knowing
And merciful
Almighty
God.

There is no other.

_()_
yosy

Ask those who know…

Gill Washington Poems, Yunus Emre , , 0 Comment

 

Yunus Emre

Ask those who know,
what’s this soul within the flesh?
Reality’s own power.
What blood fills these veins?

Thought is an errand boy,
fear a mine of worries.
These sighs are love’s clothing.
Who is the Khan on the throne?

Give thanks for His unity.
He created when nothing existed.
And since we are actually nothing,
what are possessions, houses, shops?

God sent us here
to come and see the world.
This world itself is not everlasting.
What are all of Solomon’s riches?

Ask Yunus and Taptuk
what the world means to them.
The world won’t last.
What are You? What am I?

 

 

Holy Sonnets – XIV

Gill Washington John Donne, Poems , , , 0 Comment

 

John Donne

Batter my heart, three person’d God; for, you
As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend,
That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow mee, and bend
Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new.
I, like an usurpt towne, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but Oh, to no end,
Reason your viceroy in mee, mee should defend,
But is captiv’d , and proves weake or untrue.
Yet dearely I love you, and would be loved faine,
But am betroth’d unto your enemie:
Divorce mee, untie, or breake that knot againe,
Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I
Except you enthrall mee, never shall be free,
Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee.

No Coward Soul Is Mine

Gill Washington Emily Bronte, Poems , , 0 Comment

 

Emily Bronte

No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heaven’s glories shine,
And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.

O God within my breast,
Almighty, ever-present Deity!
Life–that in me has rest,
As I–undying Life–have Power in Thee!

Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men’s hearts: unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,

To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thine infinity;
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of immortality.

With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years,
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.
Though earth and man were gone,
And suns and universes ceased to be,
And Thou wert left alone,
Every existence would exist in Thee.
There is not room for Death,
Nor atom that his might could render void:
Thou–Thou art Being and Breath,
And what Thou art may never be destroyed.

Sonnets from the Portuguese – 31 to 35

Gill Washington Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Poems, Sonnets from the Portuguese, Spirituality , , 0 Comment

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

XXXI

Thou comest! all is said without a word.
I sit beneath thy looks, as children do
In the noon-sun, with souls that tremble through
Their happy eyelids from an unaverred
Yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erred
In that last doubt! and yet I cannot rue
The sin most, but the occasion–that we two
Should for a moment stand unministered
By a mutual presence. Ah, keep near and close,
Thou dovelike help! and, when my fears would rise,
With thy broad heart serenely interpose:
Brood down with thy divine sufficiencies
These thoughts which tremble when bereft of those,
Like callow birds left desert to the skies.

 XXXII

The first time that the sun rose on thine oath
To love me, I looked forward to the moon
To slacken all those bonds which seemed too soon
And quickly tied to make a lasting troth.
Quick-loving hearts, I thought, may quickly loathe;
And, looking on myself, I seemed not one
For such man’s love!–more like an out-of-tune
Worn viol, a good singer would be wroth
To spoil his song with, and which, snatched in haste,
Is laid down at the first ill-sounding note.
I did not wrong myself so, but I placed
A wrong on thee. For perfect strains may float
‘Neath master-hands, from instruments defaced,–
And great souls, at one stroke, may do and doat.

 XXXIII

Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear
The name I used to run at, when a child,
From innocent play, and leave the cowslips piled,
To glance up in some face that proved me dear
With the look of its eyes. I miss the clear
Fond voices which, being drawn and reconciled
Into the music of Heaven’s undefiled,
Call me no longer. Silence on the bier,
While I call God–call God!–So let thy mouth
Be heir to those who are now exanimate.
Gather the north flowers to complete the south,
And catch the early love up in the late.
Yes, call me by that name,–and I, in truth,
With the same heart, will answer and not wait.

 XXXIV

With the same heart, I said, I’ll answer thee
As those, when thou shalt call me by my name–
Lo, the vain promise! is the same, the same,
Perplexed and ruffled by life’s strategy?
When called before, I told how hastily
I dropped my flowers or brake off from a game,
To run and answer with the smile that came
At play last moment, and went on with me
Through my obedience. When I answer now,
I drop a grave thought, break from solitude;
Yet still my heart goes to thee–ponder how–
Not as to a single good, but all my good!
Lay thy hand on it, best one, and allow
That no child’s foot could run fast as this blood.

 XXXV

If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
And be all to me? Shall I never miss
Home-talk and blessing and the common kiss
That comes to each in turn, nor count it strange,
When I look up, to drop on a new range
Of walls and floors, another home than this?
Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me which is
Filled by dead eyes too tender to know change?
That’s hardest. If to conquer love, has tried,
To conquer grief, tries more, as all things prove;
For grief indeed is love and grief beside.
Alas, I have grieved sol am hard to love.
Yet love me–wilt thou? Open thine heart wide,
And fold within the wet wings of thy dove.