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Clarissa Clark Dec 2010
Pondering rain,
drops of new,
and pats of old.
Contented sighs exude from my heart
as light scatters in colors
through the broken clouds,
the whole world
resides in that one rainbow...

The earth in its entirety
sinks into the darkness,
sweet hues
fade into a deep freckled purple;
asleep is the innocent;
wide awake
is the curious explorers
in love.

A nighttime symphony
awards an applaud
from the beats of the racing hearts;
alive and united.
A moment fully experienced,
God's grace
flows in the form of wind,
the warming breeze
lightly caresses
the skins of bare,
quietly blessing His children
to eternity,
Forever in awe with one another.

The sun boldly makes its arrival,
slowly spitting fire
into the beloveds below.
Somehow,
joy finds its way,
intertwined
within the arising glowing daytime -
even in the crashing water;
a mesh of beauty
is always present.

In the arms
of security,
love,
warmth,
and bliss,
one finds earthly manifestations
of His dream;
one embraces the energy
of His life.

Contented sighs
exude from my heart
with truth and beauty.
For my surroundings
sit modestly within me...
The universe holds energy infinitely;
the soul holds the universe in its entirety:
eternal and infinite is both as a pair
Like day and night,
like sunshine and rainfall,
like you and I.
Clarissa Clark Dec 2010
Tumbling clouds
reach outward
to engulf the daybreak
with it's colors of gray.
The lives below
can sense Your presence;
we can hear Your roar
in the approaching storm.
We're preparing to endure
Mother Nature's power.
We're anticipating the arrival
for the sprinkling of liquid joy
upon those
who thirst for rain.

In a blue sky vanishing,
I cherish the last of the sun
as a temporary visitor
hovers overhead
to drench the dry souls with wonder.
Our hearts will embrace
the continuous drops of life
come noon.
Oh rain on me,
precious Father,
rain on me.

You have finally arrived,
yet You never left.
In each and every one of us
lies a piece of Your heart;
a part of Your dream,
Your essence.
Some have forgotten
such love exists
within
and without.

In the calls
of the rolling clouds,
awareness is pulled
to the surface of our consciousness;
for but a moment,
some have understood companionship.
Teach those of Your power
so underestimated,
and let the perceptive barriers
crumble beneath the triumph
of unconditional love.
In equality, we are,
in unity, we stand;
all before the deistic eyes
of the universe.

Hope
is delivered
through the tears of Mother Nature.
Oh rain on me,
Mother Nature,
rain on all of us.

The stillness of the pre-storm
is profound.
The breath of my existence
flows steadily,
and completely
within the peaceful anticipation.
You are quite nigh,
and in your tears I will dance;
dance because splendor prevails.
We will rejoice
in the clap of thunder.
In hope,
we hold a high regard
for the water that gives life.
How could one buckle
under the feather of forgiveness?

My friends;
green,
furry,
and upright;
long for the overdue hydration.
We look up,
and into the darkness
of the overflowing pools
of sheer comfort.
Oh rain on me,
blissful clouds,
rain on all of us.

In the distant whispers
of the transcending clouds,
a growing closer is experienced.
We all share the grace of water
as it caresses
the bare skin of the exposed.
In each of us,
so immersed in the drink
of the heavens,
happiness expands,
protruding through our pores,
as our hearts quietly sing
with the symphony
of falling rain.

So finally,
the trickle of the gift has come...
It is the beginning
of the birth of life;
oh how I melt with fervor
once the first drop
of Mother Nature's cry
strikes my lips.
I tremble with utter tranquility.
I become one and whole
with the magnitude of all that is.
How you've come to rain on me,
oh beloved life-giving water,
you've finally found us all.
- From Poems of the Earth, Love, and Truth.
Clarissa Clark Dec 2010
Smiles are rare
In the confinement of life,
Stripped of rights
And torn to pieces.
These young, somber faces
Stare lifelessly
At the robot of authority
Spraying incoherent words
of Mother Culture.
As the drones,
Of once young and free hearts,
Are sent to the center
Of Mother Culture,
They know more of sadness
Than that of love,
They learn more of corruption
Than that of peace,
And they are taught of more disconnection
And destruction,
Than that of wholeness
And life.
The years utterly wasted
On the study of ignorance
And stupidity,
And the hope so depleted
Upon the punishment
Of play.
The moments wither away
Unconsciously
Through each discouraging day.
The puppets
Mother Culture calls 'Teachers',
Are no more wise
Than the children themselves,
Though authority has been granted
Through the strings of control;
A sad distortion of what reality
Truly beholds.
As each draining year
Is snatched
From the kids of the future,
Left are the choices to
Rebel,
Drowning in frustration and hatred,
Or surrender
Under the weight of fear and depression.
Oh how the mere energy of life
Is ****** into the mouth
Of Mother Culture,
Feeding on the people's God-given rights.
As the gongs
Strike the periodic reminder of enslavement,
The zombies
Of once wise and blissful children,
March to the next cell
Of Mother Culture's subject.

Oh how the people lie unaware,
Deceived by the illusion
That Mother Culture nurtures.
The parents of Her former education
****** their children against their will
Into the cold hands of her neglect.
If only they were allowed to know
The dangers
Of Mother Culture's teachings.

Mother Nature has been restrained
By Mother Culture's power
Of popularity,
Though Mother Nature still lives,
And is growing,
To educate the truth.
For the pupils of Mother Nature
Thrive upon the stable foundation
Of life and its means.
Each individual
Is a teacher unto himself,
And constantly remains
a student of God.
The clash of unrelenting bells
Do not flood the ears of the young,
As they blissfully transition
From one interest to the next.
The children of Mother Nature
Are secured
By the safe, living walls
Of her arms,
Which proudly resembles
The heart of the children,
Rather than the bleak, suffering walls
of Mother Culture's grasp.
The pure souls
Are allowed to explore with curiosity,
The wonders of Mother Nature's wisdom.
As the eager, passionate faces
Look upon no robot of higher power,
But a human being of any age,
Their freedom from authority
Is granted
To uncover the power
They encompass within.
These children
Know more of harmony
Than that of ******,
They of learn the choices they can make
That shape their reality in such a way
That contributes to life,
And they are taught simply of love,
Than to ever let rage defeat.
So enriched
Are the lives
Who've studied Mother Nature's works,
Every glorious moment
Never slips by unnoticed.

Thriving are the children
So fostered
By Mother Nature's lips of freedom;
Suffering are those under Mother Culture's
Heavy feet of control.
Mother Culture slyly inculcates
The teachings of death,
While Mother Nature openly provides
The education of life.
- From Poems of the Earth, Love, and Truth.
Clarissa Clark Dec 2010
The streams of pastel hues
run from the dissipating horizon.
Mother Nature's arms hug my skin
in the damp breeze.
Inspiration has found me...

Traveling from the depth of my soul,
it exudes outwards from my goose-bumped skin.
It travels from the fleeing sun
and enters my heart
with an impact of emotion.
What is inspiration?

An energy with the ability
to change a perception.
A feeling
that drives an inner passion
to a long-lived dream.
What inspires?

Life can inspire;
beauty can inspire;
sounds and words can inspire.
Only
if we allow the energy
to encompass our essence,
if only we have harbored
the ability to receive
unlimited power
through barriers
that no longer exist.

A sense of bliss
is accompanied
by the energy of inspiration.
A thought conceived
following the shiver
of God's gifted force,
can be one of greatness.
Overpowering a lethal cognition,
one has conveyed splendor
in a mere second.
Stature for life abound,
joy is prevailing
because of pure inspiration.

An energy of power
that can transform
moral conceptions
into motivational actions.
A force simply within
and without.
Let yourself be immersed
in the omnipotent power
of inspiration.
Let it whisk you into benign change,
and lift you beyond your boundaries.

Be inspired;
Inspire
and you will be.
Clarissa Clark Dec 2010
Colors...
Prisms of light,
different through different eyes,
My favorite? Let me think...

Red
because of the passion that it represents.
The fierce and confident color of love.
Orange
because of its care-free radiance,
The ecstatic and tranquil color of the young.
Yellow
because of the glee that is the hue itself.
The bright and upbeat color of the sun.
Green
because of its natural shade worn by many.
The calm and noble color of Mother Nature.
Blue
Because of the bold truth it holds.
The powerful and graceful color of the sea.
Purple
because of the serenity that is within the shade of hope.
The strong and blissful color of the soul.

How about the colors in-between?
If the universe lacked one color,
the world would be dull.
Not one overrides the other,
the hues of God's heart are in balance.
So why must I choose?
For I love them all as one,
simply as the color of life.
- From Poems of the Earth, Love, and Truth.
Clarissa Clark Dec 2010
A glance has been sent my way,
it's the look of a hopeful creature.
My eyes met with his,
and I saw ease within his soul.
My heartbeat was merging perfectly
with the rhythm of my breath.
All I heard was the flow of life
streaming within.
I felt content
staring into the depth of his spirit.
I've looked upon his being
from afar,
interested in his dreams;
hoping to learn his name.
We stared for some time,
so I took his hand,
and ran off with his fingers
locked in mine.
We ran towards the rising sun,
as the day was just beginning,
yet I realized there's no such thing.
I smiled as we ran
into the tall grasses,
swaying with the orchestra of the wind;
dancing for the approaching daylight.
He and I joined the celebration
and flung our arms into the air.
Squeals of laughter added to the music,
as we twirled under the ribbons of daybreak.
Finally, without a word being said,
we laid upon the damp earth
in rest.
His warm body next to mine
struck my interest.
He stood above me and gazed into my eyes
as I sat beneath him.
I asked him his name,
the first words spoken between us,
and he replied:
Freedom.
His body slowly melted into me,
as if he had entered my body,
and I engulfed his own.
I searched around
to see no one was there.
Freedom was inside of me,
and repeated those words.
My body levitated
above the mortal ground,
and I said farewell
to the cage I have escaped from.
I have been released
into the clouds above.
You can find freedom too,
just merely search within.
He hides inside of you.
Clarissa Clark Dec 2010
Love thy neighbor, may it be one who moos…

share the love that is unfounded,
human but not,
when you **** a soul.
a soul of innocence
a soul of life
a soul of love.
****** the knives of despair,
tear down the Houses of no mercy.
soak the lives of the hopeless with love,
sometimes that could be all they know.
dance with thy neighbor,
may it be one who moos,
or one who meows.
bend your back for the ones that do for us,
their time has come.
not for death,
but for a joyous life.
A life that is so dearly overdue,
how could man grow so heartless?
all they've shown was kindness,
how could we not do the same?
beautiful and different,
intelligent and aware,
loving and a fighter,
does this not sound familiar?
the world is one,
we're all destined for survival,
but we've given some no choice to live.
we've hurt them,
and in turn are hurting ourselves,
a punishment in ways.
fight for their right to live,
does that sound so out of tune?
fight with all your might,
and the saved will love man again,
a love that some have depleted,
but its there.
let it grow,
until they can see that we are capable of love.
because right now, all they see is abuse,
but still in turn, they show no hate.
a trait man has long exploited,
put a stop to the suffering!
their suffering is far larger than we can ever understand or even endure.
humanity applies to all souls, not just humans.
until the reversal of this unforgiving hatred,
i see no light.
so we'll fight, fight, fight for what is only right.
for their simple right to live..
- From Poems of the Earth, Love, and Truth.
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