Our poems are fabrics

knit with the dreams inside
laid out in the open
so may a passing eye
grant a glance

a pausing mind
decides for a fleeting moment
to wear

thinking them their own.

There  is no one else but Christ to run to.
Whom can breathe life into me and others.
For you are the Word of Life O Jesus.
The one to run to when we need saved.
To truly Live, is to trust and live in Jesus.
For he is the Lamb of God , the bread of Life.
The only one whom can save any of us, my friend.
For he whom believe in him the Lamb of God.
He whom trust in him the Lamb of God shall live.

When you put your worth, in the people that surround you.
When you put your worth in the things that you do or say.
When you put your worth in what others might say about you.
When you put your worth in what you can do for other people.
Stop , quit selling yourself like this for each of you are worthy.
Just laid down your low self-esteem and pick up Christ purpose.
For one thing that God can not do and that is make junk.
He only creates beauty and Masterpiece, so quit calling yourself junk.
For you are worthy to be appreciated and loved by others for you are Gods Masterpiece.

I see so much Light-bringers here , bless you all.
I see true Hope through you my friends thank you.
For it shines so much brighter coming from you.
Ordinary people with such an extraordinary gift.
Drawing me into true Hope and True light from Christ.
This is his gift to each of us, to see the Light in others.
Thus giving us each true Hope through you , he uses.
To reveal life and the Light to others drawing them in.
So I may say thank you to each of you for this gift to others.

I fall down once more upon my knees in prayer.
I know that I am unworthy, but I still come to you.
To the one whom provides for those whom are in need.
So here I come seeking abundantly Life from you.
The one whom created me from nothing lifetime ago.
So here I come crawling sincerely to the Maker of my Life.
Asking you to give Hope to those whom are Hopeless here.
For I , myself was once in their Situation O Holy Savior.
Because my heart breaks for those whom have no Hope.
To continue living this life of torment and struggles.

Weep! locusts! weep!
Thou rasping chorus overflows
blending  into sultry dusk of June
and deepening nightfall
nocturnal whispers of perfumed
pines and cedars listen in hushed wonder
Echo the dirge of my bleeding heart!
and shattered dreams
Weep! O let thy song be heard!
Voices blended in such melody
harsh though sweet
Wail thy sad sad song!
Thou who reflect a thousand lost yesterdays
and infinite heartbreaking tomorrows...





*~Hilda~

/
When you are growing as a poet
your pain is pining to born a poetry
where there are too many clouds of emotions gathering,
also a pensive mood longing
then the thunder of thoughts growing,
your paper is awaiting for the first word
as I was waiting for you, my love
when you were coming slowly
then words of rain raining,
automatically,
randomly

When the first raindrop pings on the pond
even you don't know when it will be stopped
how far it will be covered
which path it will be taken
even its density,
dignity,
or the diversity

Your first word inks on the paper
you don’t know when it will be finished
which way the words will be taken
even you don't know
its size or style,
its fashion or the scheme

Either it's a long or a short
or even a sonnet or a verse
even its rhyming
or the rhythm

You should not think about its length
of course words grow as long as
the metaphors can travel
through its thoughts of cohesion
and its feelings moving
naturally,
poetically

You should not count the words
or even you can't stop within a limit
it makes your thoughts imperfect
rather you can tell totally
about the life,
or can tell about
the love easily
or beyond the life spontaneously

The words can grow 3,5,7
lines for a haiku
or even it goes for a mile for an epitaph
or more for an epic  

Poetry executes through words
words come from thoughts
thoughts come from the emotions
and ends with the wisdom
/
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

Charity is never wasted,
Even when refused;
Your simple act of selflessness
Cannot be reduced.

Kindness is never wasted,
Even when refused;
To think we think of others first
Cannot be diffused.

Courtesy is never wasted,
Even when refused;
Shake a hand, open a door,
Say Please and Thank You.

Patience is never wasted,
Even when refused;
Bide your time contentedly
Dealing with the obtuse.

Faith is never wasted,
Even when refused;
Believe in what cannot be proved
Even if confused.

Hope is never wasted,
Even when refused;
It gives the taste of fine red wine
Brimming o'er the cruse.

Hate is never wasted,
I know you feel abused;
It's just a tact under attack
That haters like to use.

Love is never wasted,
Even when refused;
It's educed, then enfused,
And spreads as it accrues.