Devotional Poetry

The Poet (19 Poems)

1
The Poet's Hair

A poet's hair
is so strong it cuts rock.
Qur'an Proverb

Verses
carved by the razor sharp hair
of creativity

blows
across unshaped slabs of marble
dug from the quarry of love.

2
The Poet's Prayer

O Lord,
truth is not
what people want to hear.

O Lord,
let me serve it
in sweetened words,
honeyed rhymes,
and musical rhythms.

3
The Poet's Voice

Electricity flows
from axon to dendrite
and back again.

Words fill
the contemplative mind,
and reverberate through vocal cords.

Words set
oxygen atoms into motion,
and play rhythm on humanity's ear drums.

4
Soul

Each crystal facet bends light
To the wave length of its own choosing
Reflecting green, blue, yellow, or red
Form the pure white light.

5
Love of Poetry

Acquired through
the umbilical cord
affection for rhymes of the cosmos.

Acquired through
mother's milk passion
for rhythms of the universe.

6
For the Poet

Words gathered into sentences--
cast shadows across the page--
sentences assembled into stanzas,
beckon the reader into a forest of shifting ideas,
and sentences grouped into pages,
paint a portrait of reality;
a canvas that is a pale shadow of the model itself.

A canvas
that sends shivers up the spin of Being,
because it is neither reality or illusion,
but bridge crossing the gap
between the two.

The gap that separates yesterday from today;
today from tomorrow;
life from death;
and the illusion of reality from reality itself.

7
Inspiring the Poet's Soul

The verse of Baha'u'llah
Generate rays of joy
That send atoms into flight

8
The Poet

The poet is night
intoning the mystery
and splendor of dawn.

The poet is love
inscribing the beauty of
the Unknowable.

9
Morning Poem

In the day's first light,
a poem rolls out of mind
and steps shivering onto the snow cold page.

10
The Mountains

The mountains are hidden by a yellowish-green haze,
A haze that descends into the valley
Hiding both natives and tourist alike from the sun.

The puke colored haze appears to crush
The spirit of anyone going outside
No laughter is heard outside the doors of any house or business.

As long as the spirit crushing haze remains
The only safe place for a poet to write
Is in a corner with a scented candle burning
To cover the stench of the puke green haze.

11
Poet's Faith

Today I choose to walk with God
on paths untrod.

12
Journal Entries

I leave behind
tiny blood red footprints
on the waterproof murals
of my fears.

13
Keeping a Journal

I'm climbing walls
crawling spider-like across
the faux brick mosaics
of my illusions.

14
Ghazal: My First Attempt

You ask me how I will know when I am dead:
Time, that ancient black cat, will curl around herself and go to sleep.

The wind has no voice of its own, but speaks
in syncopated tones taken from the throats of those it kisses.

Drop by drop a candle sheds its life
sacrificing itself to give us light.

Balanced between opposites, we evolve.
When the soul's struggle for perfection restrains insistent self's battle for dominance.

In the dust and grim of daily labor, the auto mechanic
worships God by maintaining the creations of others in working order.

15
Footprints

Verse by verse
I advance across time's sands

Verse by verse
I leave a record of my journey

16
Verses

Verses scattered across the threshold of my mind,
words echoing across my soul,
and whispering a longing that goes
beyond space and time
or anything I have ever encountered.

17
Crimson Ink

Written in ink extracted from my veins,
That crimson ink that to the Friend is sweet,
I record my faith on matter's pages.

18
The Pattern

Woven into the pattern of verse
the doubts,
fears,
faith,
and illusions
generated by the brain's
interpretation of reality.

19
Poet's Riddle

We are the sight of humanity,
Guides to the essence of reality.

We are the conscience of civilization,
Beacons that indicate the next stage of evolution.

We are scribes of history,
Journalist that transliterate chronology.

Poet's Note: ▼

These poem were written over several years.