In God’s Image (Poetic Rant)

Photo by M.A.D.

In God’s Image – A poetic Rant

When you call out inclusion, I am insulted; I believe I am a part already.

When you want to lower standards for me, I am underrated; I have high standards.

How can there be equality when I am being set apart as being different or less than by the same policies that claim equity?

Your policies are intended to keep me down, but I have never seen myself as a victim.

I am made in the image of God, and in God I trust.

A Great Eagle’s Prayer

Photo by M.A.D.

I have not been able to write a poem in so long. As I watched the evening news yesterday, this one came to me, as a prayer for our nation.

A Great Eagle’s Prayer

Through the dark clouds

an eagle soars

A ray of light

its wings restores.

Following the sun

wings spread, sublime it soars

Higher and higher its climb

for land and freedom implores.

High in the sky Great Eagle sees

darkness is gone, freedom restored

For God has seen its bloody wings

flapping in prayer, closer to heaven.

High in the sky Eagle can see

the fragile land that lies beneath

Its vision keen, its wings are strong

in God it trusts, its heart has healed.

Stronger than ever the Eagle stands

in Faith, in Freedom, in Holy Land

For it has conquered darkness of soul

the serpent crushed, in God it trusts.

A Holy Night

Nativity – Photo by M.A.D.

Christmas is just around the corner. My favorite time of the year. The reason for the season is the best part of it, the most sublime gift – Jesus Christ, King of kings. Most years, I try to write a poem for this blog during this time. I know 2020 has not been a kind year for anyone, but we should welcome the season in our hearts and be thankful that we are still around, and for many other blessings that whether we realize or not, have happened throughout this dreadful year.

A Holy Night

On a cold December night,

outside I stepped, to see the stars.

The moon shone bright,

the air was crisp.

My heart too sad to think of Him.

*

A tear I felt, and many more.

A cloud passed by

the moon it cloaked.

A heart too tired,

A heavy load.

*

Far in the sky, a light above.

A twinkling star,

Its light bestowed.

Far down below

my heart just stopped.

*

A voice I heard

deep in my heart.

“My child I am here.”

“Of you I think,

your heart I hear.”

*

The star I saw

Announced His love,

his gift bestowed.

Born is the King,

Jesus, pure love.

I will be back in January. I am very grateful for every reader and visitor of this blog, and I wish everyone a beautiful season and many blessings for 2021. Lets hang in there; this too shall pass.

The Zombie Wife

Listening to the news may trigger an emotional response. In this case, a poem.

 

The Zombie Wife

 

Shattered, dry, tired, weak

broken spirit, broken will.

He stole her life, he cut her wings

Leaving her dreamless,

no soul within.

*

Poisonous love,

Ivy of lies,

Ring of deceit.

From it she drank

becoming sick.

*

No strength, no will

No wants, no needs

To break the chains,

to feel, to dream,

impossible feat.

*

A zombie wife

the nymph became.

A lonely stare, unsteady step.

A living dead

No dreams, no quest.

*

The Zombie Wife no tears has left,

No heart, no soul,

no blood to shed.

Empty her days,

her body carcass became.

*

What will it take to pump her blood?

A ray of sun, a lightning bolt?

For she has searched a withered soul,

And there she found nothing but dust.

Her only hope comes from above.

*

Her empty stare searching the clouds,

Her breathless lungs gasping for air,

Her shriveled heart has turned to stone,

Voiceless she screams,

Sound barrier broke.

*

A storm slowly brews,

lightning is seen, thunder is heard.

Tears become rain, drops of despair.

A jolting bolt strikes out her pain,

Making the dead alive again.

flower

Photo by M.A.D.

 

 

 

Country Blues

If you watch the news, you are probably aware of the turmoil in this country. Sometimes, I feel as if the core of its foundation is trembling. I have to admit that the state of its affairs has overwhelmed me and even influence my mood and disposition. I don’t know if it is my perception but seems to me as if everything we have believed in, honored, and even taken from granted in this country is being tested in many levels.

I understand that for change to happen there has to be turmoil first; what is hidden must come to light and be known in order to facilitate change and growth. There can’t be a future without a past, and the only pathway to it is the present. With a heavy heart and love for country these words I wrote.

Country Blues

Red, white and blue

stripes, colors, liberty and woes.

Inside my heart the colors run

Red, white and blue, a patriot’s blood.

Feeling the blues

the eagle soars

deep within me

its wings so broad.

With every flap I feel its pain

looking for justice, hope, not disdain.

A nation ready to overcome

A people ready, in God we trust.

Red, white, and blue

the eagle soars anew.

Faith, liberty, justice, for one and all.

A people ready to honor God.

Photo by Maria Diaz

Let’s Talk About Love

If I was to answer the question – What is the meaning of life? – I would answer it with one word, Love. Love is a main theme in my novels. I truly think that we are here to practice love, experience love, see love, give love, and eventually, become Love; all to be closer to our Creator. When I think about this, each one of us is a Love story in this universe. I think that animals and all nature exist as a portal to Love, so we don’t feel so removed from it. To truly love is not easy, but it is our deepest nature. Although some people might describe me as a loving person, in general, I think love doesn’t come easy to me. I’m a bit reserved and I don’t trust easily. I sincerely admire people who do, and seem to be heartily open to anyone. Some people seem to love so easily. I have to admit that through the years, after experiencing life – backstabbing, lies, people trying to use me, and seeing how humans turn against each other for the most frivolous and materialistic reasons, my trust diminished and my love is cautious.

One easy way to fall out of love a bit at a time is to watch the news everyday. It truly discourages any hope and faith we might have left, as far as the human race. Sometimes, it feels as if “the bad guys are winning,” to put it in simple words. Sometimes, love feels far away; other times, I wake up feeling as if the whole world hurts inside me. On other days, I wake up feeling the deepest love towards this planet and the people in it. It is puzzling to me. However I might feel in a particular day, one thing is very clear to me, and that is that Love is all there is, the universal truth, language, and reason. That, in itself, is reason enough to understand a bit of my existence. Love might or might not come easy to me or you, but we know that it is the purest expression, and something to cherish as  well as to give away. If I could only say one prayer to my Creator it would be – Let me be love.

My next novel, which title I have not decide on yet, deals exclusively with the theme of love. I leave you with a few lines of poetry I wrote after thinking about this.

Where is the Love?

 

North, South, East, West

In search of love,

the Earth I swept.

*

Nothing I found, empty my quest

buried my heart,

deep in my chest.

*

To God I asked, feeling unrest

How can I love,

when there’s none left?

*

His voice I heard, Love in itself.

You did not see,

you only searched.

*

Didn’t you see Love everywhere?

Amongst the thorns, a flower bloomed

Asleep the seed under the moon?

*

For you, a bird sang,

the night gently cried,

diamonds for you, the morning dew.

*

The sun, the moon

the sea, the stars, 

and the beat of your heart.

*

The song of creation, man, woman, and child

The seed deeply grows,

in everyone’s heart.

*

The newly born

A mother’s smile,

The hungry eating from another’s hand.

*

The tired old man on his death-bed sang,

the homecoming song,

ready to depart.

*

A man and his wife rebuilding a life,

A pastor at dawn,

Praying for his flock.

*

Infinite prayers from Earth fly above,

night and day I receive this love.

If you care to see, my child, you will see only Love.

 

The Earth is Round No More

While thinking about a novel I may (or may not) write, this poem made its way into my mind.  I had to pen it down as soon as it showed up, and decided to include it as today’s post. I am working on two ideas for future novels, and I am unsure of what will be next (usually the loudest idea wins), while I continue to work on the current novel, which I almost lost, hence why it has taken so long to publish. I hope you enjoy this little piece of imperfect poetry.

Earth is Round No More

Earth is round no more

it has turned into a box

a square of criticism

the righteous chant of all.

 

Boxed in it rests our humanity,

understanding, and our love.

The lid so tightly closed

The air, stale down below.

 

A planet of diversity

turned into one of selfies

quick to shout geometric words

slow to think beyond the box.

 

Earth is round no more

Crucify the next cyber post

Messiah, of  gigabytes born

The Beast claimed the throne.

 

Earth is round no more

Hearts are wired, brains are stoned

Earth is round no more

Heaven’s stars, fallen short.

Fallen

FallenA Thanksgiving Poem

 

Rust, yellow, brown

Life becomes death

Fallen leaves, withering trees

Spirit sleeps within.

 

The earth sleeps countless dreams

The heart beats a million thanks

To live to die, to die to live

Spirit lives within.

 

A thankful heart

Fallen to Earth

Asleep in rusts

Alive, still, rests.

 

Spirit blesses the earth below

Awakes the heart

the sleeping soul

from dusk till dawn.

 

 

Crimson Miracle

sandy9

Photo by M.A.D.

 

Crimson Miracle

 

Shriveled leaf, sunrise gone

Shriveled life, blue moon shone

Risen anew, ashes to dust

Wind gentle blows, caressing soul.

 

Cycle of perfect harmony

A thankful heart beats on

Season of crimson miracles

To live, to die, and be reborn.

 

 

 

Inspirational Image

AMONG THORNS

Photo by MAD

Today I share an inspirational image of a cluster of roses among thorns. I took this picture one summer. Sometimes an image inspires a poem. This picture inspired this one. I hope you become inspired by the image as well.

 

Miracles Abound

 

Lonely soul, scattered dreams

tears of sorrow, never seen.

Cast the shadows in the mist

dark of hours, felt within.

 

Search for light, where not seen

look for love, deep within.

Sorrow blasts a creation act

Miracles abound in your backyard.

 

Nestled by thorns, shade, and morass

your light awaits, to bloom, to shine.

Pure white flower, fragrant soul

Miracles abound, right by your side.

 

Covered by thorns, beauty asleep

ready to sprout the seed within

Atlantis lost, Eden bestow

Where there is hope a bloom will show.