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Erian Rose May 16
Autumn mornings filtered
gentle daylight on sunbeams
across cityways
and warm-tinted sidewalks,
upbeat lofi humming
with the dove's sorrowful song,
while weaving past
the struggles days bring.
Hi everyone! I finally got down to creating that lit magazine :) The Instagram is @autumnmorn.mag
It's still a work in progress, with an official website, logo, and application/submission forms in the process, but within a few months it should be up and running!
deadhead Apr 28
i sit alone in the night
and listen to the world.
the breeze that just barely
caresses the bark of trees,
making the leaves shiver.
the quiet call of a sleepy dove
echoes faintly, making the feral cat
sneak a look up at the sky
and catching a glimpse of the
cloud-shrouded moon.
i, the observer, also look to the moon
watching the clouds glow with sliver light
listening to the dove coo one last time
Sa Weol May Apr 28
Head up high,
at the cold cerulean,
constellating my fervent prayers,
with no stars included,
sweetly encountered a canorous disenthrall
sang by the only dove
I saw at the sky.

-A.M.
Bhoomi Mittal Mar 25
Birds live to be free,
Don't catch them when they are in trees...
They are not supposed to be in cages,
And to be sold in wages;
We can't see their tearful cries,
Cause we force them to die;
They want free air,
In cages they live without their mother's care;
The symbol of peace is dove,
But we lock them in cages without any love...


                                                       ­       BHOOMI MITTAL.A
In today's world not only birds are caged but also humans are caged in their own thoughts . This poem brings out their condition
Keiya Tasire Feb 24
Suddenly the dark clouds appeared!
A cry of disbelief!
A cry of despair!
The agony of a heart breaking!

The mind clouded over  
Relentlessly trying to push the pain away!
"Breathe! Breathe!
Remember to breathe! ...."
He said to himself, "Remember it is just a rainy day. "

He continued to breathe for years and years
Reminding himself,
"We all have reasons we grieve."
Until one day he realized there was a purpose.

"It was the lessons of the grief
That opened his heart to understanding."
It is here where fellowship began to bloom
Opening the door to something much deeper....

Longfellow, I stood still!
During all of "The Rainy Day" days.
Fully opened and allowed the tears and memories to flow...

And the lotus flower of the heart opened
One at a time
Petal by petal

He looked up into the top of the Tree of Life
The Dove came
Hopping down it's branches
Singing to him - a song
Dropping the fruit of wisdom
One fruit at a time!
Into his heart.

Hearts rejoice!
Hearts full of laughter!
Heart's still longing
Yet comforted
With Love!
We each have a different understanding and lesson we gain from grief. What is yours?
Man Feb 24
the dove
labored by his own beak;
the last breathed breath

lungs are filled
with the salt of the sea
**** to the shackled, the non-free
do you care, or is it a play
to see what you can get
breathe in
what's left
of the clean we polluted
divinity diluted
of air cleared, not yet
Silver ferns grow in a meadow of furiously bright flora,
Cosmos,
Freesia,
Roses of red and white,
Grow freely,
Wild below the pristine marble pedestal sitting center the clearing,
Within,
A,
Delicately wound cage calmly sits a equally small bird,
Breathing in the sweetness of the meadow,
Fluttering peacefully,
Their talons rest atop the door,
Of,
Its Gilded Cage.
The First installment of my "The Dove" Collection.
Constructive Feedback is always Appreciated and very much welcome.
At first light, I turn my head
towards an open window
and listen to the dove’s lament.
I know his pain. I know his cry.

He weeps in such a way
that makes me wish
I could answer,
but only God or another dove
can heed that call.

I turn my head away from the window,
pull warm covers back over my ears
and wait for him to fly away.
Acina Joy Nov 2020
Out by silver rocks
And fjords of solid ice,
to the golden moon's marrow,
lay an extended hand, harrowed
In draws of every breath, followed
All in desperation, borrowed
A  forsaken dove, it cries
To the golden moon, it flies.
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