I sit at the edge

marvel

I sit at the edge of the dark
Where fears are heading eyes up
And wildness is swilling its cup
Yet gathering despair to mark
Empires of sadness and tears.
I sit at the edge of their bark.

I sit at the marge of the dark
Where magic of night covers sky
With beautiful stars, charming spark
And music of angels grows high
While dancing with light through the fears.
I sit at their edge stopping tears.

The shadows embrace me with love
Through darkness the stars glow so bright.
I sit and their silvered dove
Hope brings on my heart, faith and light.

@Simona Prilogan, 08/01/2018, Nottingham

Hope

“Grey Dawn” – Tonight

“Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history” – Plato

I am happy to be part of  Grey Dawn”, a new poetry anthology from All Poetry.

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Tonight I’ll write  to you on sand
And wait for the wind to arrive
While counting the stars to the end
Of what I was used to strive.

Tonight I will sing with the moon
When both we will look for the light
And catching  the sadness too soon
Just running for nothing through night.

Tonight I will miss all my space
Once more as I did it before.
While tears wash the hope from my face
I’m dancing with  silence to shore.

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Deepest dream

Solace
Behind of smiling flowers, behind of lights of stars
I saw on other worldliness the bridge up to my peace.
I’m still behind of shadows and write in other books
A long poem to Life while dancing with my tears.
While running in the darkness in winter’s nights to reach
The whole embrace of mornings and giving up the scream
Of all the painful hours, still looking to my bridge,
I dare myself, while singing and live the deepest    dream!
While heavy rain is falling in all my winter days,
While singing with a faker which just broke out my faith,
I dare myself to walk through hope’s and mornings rays
Ahead of lately hours, to catch the dream onset.
 rebel

Water poem

“Human nature is like water. It takes the shape of its container.”
― Wallace Stevens

 

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“Don’t be ashamed to weep; it’s  right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without water. But there must be sunlight also. A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us.”
― Brian Jacques, Taggerung

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“Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.”
― Margaret Atwood, The Penelopiad

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“Anger is like flowing water; there’s nothing wrong with it as long as you let it flow. Hate is like stagnant water; anger that you denied yourself the freedom to feel, the freedom to flow; water that you gathered in one place and left to forget. Stagnant water becomes dirty, stinky, disease-ridden, poisonous, deadly; that is your hate. On flowing water travels little paper boats; paper boats of forgiveness. Allow yourself to feel anger, allow your waters to flow, along with all the paper boats of forgiveness. Be human.”
― C. JoyBell C.

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“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.”
― Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It and Other Stories

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“Cry. Forgive. Learn. Move on. Let your tears water the seeds of your future happiness.”
― Steve Maraboli

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“You never really know what’s coming. A small wave, or maybe a big one. All you can really do is hope that when it comes, you can surf over it, instead of drown in its monstrosity.”
― Alysha Speer

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“Until justice rolls down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream.”
― Martin Luther King Jr.

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“In one drop of water are found all the secrets of all the oceans; in one aspect of You are found all the aspects of existence.”
― Kahlil Gibran

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“Always be like a water. Float in the times of pain or dance like waves along the wind which touches its surface.”
― Santosh Kalwar

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“I read once that water is a symbol for emotions. And for a while now I’ve thought maybe my mother drowned in both.”
― Jessi Kirby, Moonglass

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“Life in us is like the water in a river.”
― Henry David Thoreau

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“Water is the driving force in nature.”
― Leonardo da Vinci

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“They both listened silently to the water, which to them was not just water, but the voice of life, the voice of Being, the voice of perpetual Becoming.”
― Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

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“You can’t trust water: Even a straight stick turns crooked in it.”
― W.C. Fields

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“All is as if the world did cease to exist. The city’s monuments go unseen, its past unheard, and its culture slowly fading in the dismal sea.”
― Nathan Reese Maher

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“You are water
I’m water
we’re all water in different containers
that’s why it’s so easy to meet
someday we’ll evaporate together.”
― Yoko Ono

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“Where the waters do agree, it is quite wonderful the relief they give.”
― Jane Austen, Emma

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“The places where water comes together with other water. Those places stand out in my mind like holy places.”
― Raymond Carver, Where Water Comes Together with Other Water: Poems

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“We are all bodies of water, guarding the mystery of our depths, but some of us have more to guard than others.”
― Deborah Smith, Alice at Heart

Weekly Photo Challenge: H2O

“Shoes in Church”

A touching and inspirational poem by Leanne Freiberg
***
“I showered and shaved.
I adjusted my tie.
I got there and sat
In a pew just in time.
Bowing my head in prayer
As I closed my eyes.
I saw the shoe of the man next to me
Touching my own and I sighed.
With plenty of room on either side,
I thought, “Why must our soles touch?”
It bothered me. His shoe is touching mine
But it didn’t bother him much.
A prayer began: “Our Father”
I thought, “This man with the shoes has no pride.
They’re dusty, worn, and scratched.
Even worse, there are holes on the side!”
“Thank You for blessings,” the prayer went on.
The shoe man said a quiet “Amen.”
I tried to focus on the prayer
But my thoughts were on his shoes again.
Aren’t we supposed to look our best
When walking through that door?
“Well, this certainly isn’t it,”
I thought while glancing toward the floor.
Then the prayer was ended.
The songs of praise began.
The shoe man was certainly loud
Sounding proud as he sang.
His voice lifted the rafters.
His hands were raised high.
The Lord could surely hear
The shoe man’s voice from the sky.
It was time for the offering.
What I threw in was steep.
I watched as the shoe man reached
Into his pockets so deep.
I saw what was pulled out
What the shoe man put in.
Then I heard a soft “clink”
As when silver hits tin.
The sermon really bored me
To tears and that’s no lie.
It was the same for the shoe man.
For tears fell from his eyes.
At the end of the service
As is the custom here
We must greet new visitors
And show them all good cheer.
But I felt moved somehow
And wanted to meet the shoe man.
So after the closing prayer
I reached over and shook his hand.
He was old and his skin was dark.
His hair was truly a mess.
But I thanked him for coming
And being our guest.
He said, “My name is Charlie.
I’m glad to meet you, my friend.”
There were tears in his eyes
But he had a large, wide grin.
“Let me explain,” he said,
Wiping tears from his eyes,
“I’ve been coming here for months
And you’re the first to say ‘Hi.'”
“I know that my appearance
Is not like all the rest.
But I really do try
To always look my best.”
“I always clean and polish my shoes
Before my very long walk.
But by the time I get here
They’re dirty and dusty, like chalk.”
My heart filled with pain
And I swallowed to hide my tears
As he continued to apologize
For daring to sit so near.
He said, “When I get here
I know I must look a sight,
But I thought if I could touch you
Then maybe our souls might unite.”
I was silent for a moment
Knowing whatever was said
Would pale in comparison.
I spoke from my heart, not my head.
“Oh, you’ve touched me,” I said,
“And taught me, in part
That the best of any man
Is what is found in his heart.”

The rest, I thought,
This shoe man will never know.
Like just how thankful I really am
That his dirty old shoe touched my soul. 

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Source: Google Images