poetry

"All nature has a feeling: woods, fields, brooks
Are life eternal: and in silence they
Speak happiness beyond the reach of books;
There's nothing mortal in them; their decay
Is the green life of change; to pass away
And come again in blooms revivified.
Its birth was heaven, eternal it its stay,
And with the sun and moon shall still abide
Beneath their day and night and heaven wide."

~ from poem All Nature Has A Feeling by John Clare

"Mine are the night and morning,
The pits of air, the gulf of space,
The sportive sun, the gibbous moon,
The innumerable days.

I hid in the solar glory,
I am dumb in the pealing song,
I rest on the pitch of the torrent,
In slumber I am strong.

No numbers have counted my tallies,
No tribes my house can fill,
I sit by the shining Fount of Life,
And pour the deluge still;

And ever by delicate powers
Gathering along the centuries
From race on race the rarest flowers,
My wreath shall nothing miss."

~ from poem Song Of Nature by Ralph Waldo Emerson

"A simple truth, 'to make sure everyone, alive, makes it home' (as a soldier shouted out), has been debated by many on and on..." Following is excerpt from "He Fell", poem inspired by a true story. Poet: .D. LuCxeed (www.loves-footsteps.com) -
...
To snatch life out of the steel teeth
      of Death, he fell.
Have you, Heaven's Grace, heard him?
Jason Dunham, a handsome
      heart above Hell -
      "I want to make sure everyone,
      alive, makes it home."

"Son, we're praying for you, Jason Dunham."
"Young man, motherland
      needs you, too, home."
To snatch life out of the steel teeth
      of Death, he fell,
      down into somber deserts' bosom.
Mourning mountains toll the bell.
...

*music by calpomatt

The sun descending in the west,
The evening star does shine;
The birds are silent in their nest.
And I must seek for mine.
The moon, like a flower
In heaven's high bower,
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night.

- William Blake

I love the stillness of the wood:
I love the music of the rill:
I love to couch in pensive mood
Upon some silent hill. -

Scarce heard, beneath you arching trees,
The silver-crested ripples pass;
And, like a mimic brook, the breeze
Whispers among the grass. -

Here from the world I win release,
Nor scorn of men, nor footstep rude,
Break in to mar the holy peace
Of this great solitude. -

- Lewis Carroll

A deep below the deep,
And a height beyond the height!
Our hearing is not hearing,
And our seeing is not sight.

- Alfred Lord Tennyson

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

- William Shakespeare