By Zach Czaia
I'm sorry it wasn't till the end of the year
that I asked you to write about yourselves. You filled pages…
that I asked you to write about yourselves. You filled pages…
Explore Poems: God & the Divine
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- By Petr HruškaTranslated By Jonathan BoltonTwo days of rain. Children on the floor. Scant trees.
The furniture confesses to the boards. Reaching… - By Sri ChinmoyUltimately everything
Becomes boring.
Even great miracles
Become boring.
Even the tremendous powers of… - By Thomas TraherneI saw new Worlds beneath the Water ly,
New Peeple; yea, another Sky
And Sun, which seen by Day
Might things… - By Carlie HoffmanLight sheds its skin in the poplars,
Earth’s soldiers wielding the dark, bats emerging
like machinery… - By Isabel Duarte-GraySunday we lay hands
on a girl of ten hand on hand on
cornsilk hair. We sing
the secret language sung
the day the tin roof of the tower beat
on God’s floorboard
he got cramp in heaven.
Like our crying and our
fornicating so close to his... - By Tom Andrews1.
Day brings a steady
hand, a sure breath every other day ...
My brother again on the edge of his bed,
sitting up with his eyes closed,
his palms pressed, a brief prayer.
... - By Ada LimónI used to pretend to believe in God. Mainly, I liked so much to talk to someone in the dark. Think of how far a voice must have to travel to go beyond the universe. How powerful that voice must...
- By James K. BaxterThe wish to climb a ladder to the loft
Of God dies hard in us. The angels Jacob saw
Were not himself. Bramble is what grows best
Out of this man-scarred earth, and I don’t chop it back
Till the fruit have ripened. Yesterday I... - By Natalie ShaperoGod come on stop cutting me
out of your photos God stop dragging
the mouse around my shopworn
body like a chalk outline then clicking fill
with background God I know
that times are tight I know you only
made one death per person I’m sorry
to... - By Genevieve ArlieThe geometer wishes he were David
cut from stone by lightning, his mind
gyring wide into figures of space
out of time, ever gauging the shock
of the word for the pathos, ever
slinging the rock of his wound
at the sugared glass of me.
I'd rather... - By Jupiter HammonI
O come you pious youth! adore
The wisdom of thy God,
In bringing thee from distant shore,
To learn His holy word.
Eccles. xii.
II
Thou mightst been left behind
Amidst a dark abode;
God’s tender mercy still combin’d,
Thou hast the... - By Richard Rolle[Alle perisches and passes pat we with eghe see]
It wanes into wrechednes, þe welth of þis worlde.
Robes and ritches rotes in dike,
Prowde payntyng slakes into sorow,
Delites and drewryse stynk sal ful sone,
Þair golde and þaire tresoure drawes þam til dede.
Al... - By CaedmonTranslated By Roy M. LiuzzaNow let us praise Heaven-Kingdom's guardian,
the Maker's might and his mind's thoughts,
the work of the glory-father—of every wonder,
eternal Lord. He established a beginning.
He first shaped for men's sons
Heaven as a roof, the holy Creator;
then middle-earth mankind's guardian,
eternal Lord, afterwards prepared
the... - By Mechthild of MagdeburgAh blessed absence of God,
How lovingly I am bound to you!
You strengthen my will in its pain
And make dear to me
The long hard wait in my poor body.
The nearer I come to you,
The more wonderfully and abundantly
God comes upon me,
In... - By Mechthild of MagdeburgIt is my nature that makes me love you often,
For I am love itself.
It is my longing that makes my love you intensely,
For I yearn to be loved from the heart.
It is my eternity that makes me love you long,
For... - By Mechthild of MagdeburgGod speaks to the soul
And God said to the soul:
I desired you before the world began.
I desire you now
As you desire me.
And where the desires of two come together
There love is perfected.
- By Jay HoplerOf the two undiscovered countries, Life and Death,
Which one lies the closer to God? - By Terrance HayesThe rain falling on a night
in mid-December,
I pull to my father’s engine
wondering how long I’ll remember
this. His car is dead. He connects
jumper cables to his battery,
then to mine without looking in
at me and the child. Water... - By Harriet Beecher StoweThink not, when the wailing winds of autumn
Drive the shivering leaflets from the tree,—
Think not all is over: spring returneth,
Buds and leaves and blossoms thou shalt see.
Think not, when the earth lies cold and sealed,
And the weary birds above her...