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God is the seed
Man is the soil

Nothing will grow
unless a man toil

God's watering words
quench a man's thirst

The son's called our Savior
from cradle to hearst
What would we do without our precious friends
the ones who stick with us, until the very end.  
How harsh this world would  seem if we lived alone,  
isn't it better when we have a friend of our very own?

Even colors we see are a cut above the rest when we
laugh a little, cry a little, with our very own best friend.
When God made friends he knew what he was doing,  
our hearts need companionship, for a blessed journey.

The power of one word, one hug, one simple friend,  
one who can gently stand by you, until the very end.
Friendship is a two sided street, so reach out often
tell them you treasure them, ...each and every day.
 Aug 9 Nylee
Bekah Halle
Transfixed;
You captivate my gaze,
Siphon my priorities, 
So they are fixed on You —
It's absurd to believe that there is someone for somebody,
the likelihood of finding that somebody in the crowd of everybody,
When everyone has woven in their mind, an entirely different reality
Is it a curse to be on your own for your entirety
You find travelers on their journey, and get a word in
Believe that the entire world, heaven above must be listening
A human in a billion, with rest so many other beings
What are the chances of meeting the one surrounded by many
I am just running in and out, about over my destiny
What is fixed, what is variable, what is relationship, if not temporary?
A promise of meeting in other life, why bind me in the cycle.
A lifetime seems so much, yet incomplete without somebody?
What is it in me, that I am not sufficient to be without anybody?
 Aug 5 Nylee
Mike Adam
Lake view from
Beech canopy.

Legs, arms, enwrap
Broad trunk and
Ascend unlike any bird since
Dodo.

Sun through beaten
Coppered leaf-set.

Fair Day
With tall grass,
Bedded moss beneath

My seat of rooted
Contemplation
 Aug 5 Nylee
Agnes de Lods
Carrying my truth.
I stand by my views,
watching through
my weakening gaze.

After a raging storm,
making peace with myself,
I vanish into the air,
my convictions fold with me.

Without simple answers,
wearing the new lens,
I see another world:
not clearer,
not wiser,
not safer,

just slightly shifted.
 Aug 5 Nylee
Nat Lipstadt
''How wondrous it is to be read by someone
who appreciates this gift given,
A kiss, a tear, a poet's religion.
A friend made, words displayed, a song, a poem, hello, goodbye, or maybe Shalom
"
patty m
<>
look, it's not like I lack for inspiration.
138 butterscotch chips
already exist,
full poems, titles, couplets, bare naked (ladies) notions,
(men, women, children, asordid genders ageless-survivors)
all demanding rescue,
their cry of SOS, undeniable, but their
lamentations defied, asided, when miz patty m writes,
and oblivious to all else,
attention must be paid!
even when it is 2:55am
even on a Tuesday! (1)
<.>
to the meet, to the mess, to the beating heart that refuses to keep,
a doctor's orders of de minimus seven hours sleep,
when commissioned, when ordered without permission,
you drift into the sunroom, where the night outside
is holy dark, the silence raucous and overwhelming,
and utter inaudibly in his mind,
and piety and poet repeats:
"Yes Ma'am, Yes Ma'am, sir!
<.>
we write for no one in particular
for there is no one who is not particular,
all!
special, sharp edged, distinctive,


and there is no limit, yet,
to how many poems
can be created in a day,
except for the foolish delimiting, irritating
science of 24/7/365+1;
but mercy and insight is demanded,
when miz patty m
does not insist, but commands it
<.>
''A kiss, a tear, a poet's religion..."

indeed, in deed, in deep,
these the elementals of the one true religion,
perhaps the shortest excerpt that ever summarized
the humanist's
faith and the One Commandment,
that summons us & Grace to the table
where we compose and create,
not by fate tempted, but by a fate commanded,
by a faith so grounded & profound,
that every human
regardless of identity or language
each has in their possession, a heaven sent
something important to say,
which is why,

''A kiss, a tear, a poet's religion..."
is the largest tent ever constructed
after the Tower of Babel
where languages were created
(4)

a half hour has passed,
a period of absolute measured time,
that cannot be recreated, recsptured,
but like energy,
nor can it be destroyed,
for this
poem, this kiss, this tear,
marks the moment, the neuronic iconic synapse (2)
of our interactive minds believing and breathing
as one,
and even the atheist  among us
must to no one in particular
(well, maybe to the Angel Leonard)
must whisper most utterly,
hallelujah

'''''''''''''
poem dispatched
at 3:44 am EST,
from the
current latitude and longitude for where natty is,
approximately 41.05° North latitude and -72.33° West longitude.
(1)
In Judaism, Tuesday is considered a special day, often referred to as a "double blessing," due to its association with the creation story in Genesis. Specifically, on the third day of creation (which is Tuesday), the Torah states, "and God saw that it was good," twice. This double declaration is interpreted as a sign of Tuesday being a day of double blessings or auspiciousness.

the boy knows hiz bible
(2)
https://www.google.com/search?q=synapse&rlz=1C9BKJA_enUS1169US1169&hl=en-US&sourceid=chrome-mobile&ie=UTF-8
the cutest gap ever drawn of a kiss
(3)
nah, no note, just a parentheses and a Trinity
(4)
The Tower of Babel story, found in the Book of Genesis, is a biblical narrative used to explain the origin of different languages on Earth. According to the story, all humans initially spoke a single language. They decided to build a tower to reach the heavens, but God, seeing their arrogance, confused their language, causing them to speak different tongues and preventing them from completing the tower. This divine intervention is presented as the reason for the diversity of languages we see today
 Aug 5 Nylee
Zywa
Half-light
 Aug 5 Nylee
Zywa
Alone, in the empty movie theatre
between the carpets
my eyes in half-light

closed, back and thighs
firmly in the chair travelling
through the buzzing space

of busy traffic
of merging and outgoing
in the distance and somewhere

a song slides by
- familiar emotions
on exits without a destination

going around the network of roads
Therefore and because no one
would remember the song

it points out, in half-light, only half
the way, but this does not matter
in the one universe of the journey
Collection "web tissue"
Here we are
       this and now  
          never turn your heart away !
Hear the song
that comes out strong
                then sweet ...
pure upon your lips of red

Birds of paradise
              fly high
           as they soar towards
                         the sun !

Here we are
                you and I
                        living for the other
                            as if we'll never die !
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