Paint me a picture of the mountains dark and vast against the setting of the sun, show me how the forest extends beyond the realm of human sound, and bring me the silence of the night beneath the stars that are densely stacked into the unknown, and the river that winds on and on and on, and trace your pen along the path just beneath the canyons where the falls hide deep caverns of peace and stillness.
Pick up your pen, and in the way that only you can, draw this for me, this journey, this gentle path into the night. Pick up your pen and show me.
Show me how to live without you
I don't even know where to start. I am standing next to an empty canvas
See all things - gathered in one The reign of joy has just begun Gardens thrive in total peace Harvests rich will never cease
The ancient fullness all restored Plowshares made from every sword Health and strength arise anew Light and truth distill as dew
Kindness and compassion flow Eye to eye we’ll see and know Trials may come before this time Just do your part, and I’ll do mine
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I'm looking forward to the time where peace will reign on earth, and everyone will enjoy safety and prosperity.
I personally DO believe in a literal 1000 year Millennium, but this poem is about the kindness, truth, and caring for each other that we can implement right now. Read the last line and join with me.
Feel the connection and love I've put into this poem. My nation (the United States) is going through a difficult time right now, as is the entire world. Every kind act matters, and will ripple out forever.
Poetry is not these words; Its the breath we live by. Its not the ink that kisses each heartbroken thought with fullness, But the way we choose to see, the way we choose to breathe, the way in which we reside: A love given unable to return A song that cannot be unsung and praise that requires no song to dance. This is life. This is worship. This is love. This is poetry.
you have more beauty in you than any one woman in the world. intimate moments lie in the shape of your eyes. champagne and roses fill the air in wake of your stride. wonder meets perfection in the fullness of your lips; the cutest little nose awaiting a lover’s gentle kiss. bearer of heart seemingly made of stone. stunner of men made of only flesh and bone.
Emptiness is created by the idea of something missing. But what if it is merely a failed realization of fullness? I am already alive, living, crying, laughing, experiencing Even though you are not here.
Time will be filled with the process of filtering What all this was about.