Tag: soul

God’s Love Song

I view serendipity as the loving gestures,

Of One Romantic Universe;

 

A love song of sorts,

Moving and pulsing through the air;

 

Little chance happenings,

That touch my soul,

And raise my spirits,

In perfect time.

 

A child says, “I love you,”

When  I feel broken,

And depleted, 

Yet hide it with a smile.

 

A rose falls,

At my feet,

When not wanting to take,

One step more.

 

A bird stops to sing in my ear,

With encouraging little tweets.

(There are birds of many feathers, 

Including all of you here!)

 

There are days when God’s sweet,

Love notes,

Won’t register,

Clear and fine and true,

 

 

But once I turn down,

 The noise and static,

In my brain,

And listen with care,

 

God’s loving verse plays,

Strong and sure,

A melodious accompaniment,

To my day…

 

Both delightful,

And sublime.

 

-Gilda Patricia

 

 

 

God’s Loving Gaze

Lips,

Eyes,

Hair,

Skin,

My human (body) form,

Inside and out;

 

You see this,

And so much more…

 

Heart,

Mind,

Soul,

 

You see me,

In my entirety;

 

In my grandeur,

And frailty,

My successes,

And crushing failures,

 

Whether I’m smooth sailing,

With the wind behind,

Or swimming upstream,

Paddle-less.

 

Even when I’m standing still,

Or laying desperate,

Broken and defeated,

On the ground,

 

The whole world rushing by…

 

You see me.

 

Holding me steadfast,

In your loving gaze,

You see me as I am,

And I rise like a new day,

Warmed by the light,

Of the sun.

 

Thank God, You see me.

 

 

 

 

Sweet Music

What can I say?

You entice me with your words,

Your rhythm, your pulse,

Music, I adore thee!

 

You take me on a journey,

Of the heart,

With memories of times long ago,

And loves lost.

 

But you candy coat them all,

With sweetness and fondness,

So they never rust,

Or get swept away like dust.

 

You define moments,

As I live them,

Making good ones seem more wonderful,

And tough times more palatable.

 

Music sweet music,

How do you weave your magic?

Your notes must be a sister cord,

To the heart strings of my soul!

 

Love Threads

All good deeds (including prayer), 

Are sewn into the fabric of Love.

No good deed gets left on the spool,

Unsewn, (unknown).

 

Love could never deny Itself,

But only use the thread,

Which is of the same fabric,

For Absolute Good.

 

Sewing, sewing peacefully,

And ceaselessly into the night;

Creating a blanket of warmth,

For a world, otherwise at risk,

For hypothermia of the soul.

 

This poem is dedicated to all moms, especially my mom,

who works tirelessly for love.

 

Young Spirits Break Free

Shattered by a crushing blow to heart, 

body, or spirit,

The ego left for nearly dead.

 

A lucky few surrender and cry out to God,

Thereby allowing the miracle of grace,

To sweep swiftly through their broken places,

 

Reigniting their soul’s flame,

Calming and drawing them into,

A dark inner wilderness,

Replete with emotional dragons, demons, and ghosts,

The likes of which few would care to know, or dare to go.

 

Yet turning back now,

Is to play pretend.

 

The trusted companion, grace,

Alights young soul travelers,

With joy, love, gratitude, peace and forgiveness,

 

Giving them strength to go the mile,

 Clearing and navigating,

The once hidden path of God’s Will.

 

Leading them down, out and all the way through,

To the (other), spiritually lighter side.

 

Young spirits freed,

Don their new wings. 

Letter to My Inner Child

                                                                   It is

                                                        Your life pursuit,

                                               To light your candle and to,

                                               Keep that ember burning,

                                                        In the face of,

                                            All inner and outer resistance,

                                                  Not to allow that candle,

                                                       To be snuffed out.

                                   This candle is your soul,  it feels wonderful,

                                          When it’s lit.  You will find a way.  

                                         There will come a day when your,

                                           Light will burn, bright and clear

                                                             and strong.

                                                 You will be the guardian,

                                     The keeper of this light.  It is your duty.

                                                  No one else may care, 

                                                 But that doesn’t matter,

                                      They don’t need to,  it’s not their job. 

                                                    You will learn this.

                                           Others may or may not notice,

                                                 Your burning ember.

                                              This doesn’t matter either. 

                                          Your warmth still touches them,

                                              And warms your own heart,

                                             Through all troubling times,

                                            Both personal and collective.

Love Gilda

 

Biology and Back Doors

Quit wanting to be someone other than who you are.

You, yes you, be you!

Full of emotion,

Filled with light that must shine,

But maybe won’t come through,

In the usual way.

 

For many, if not most,

Our biology keeps us firmly planted on the ground,

As our dreams soar a little too high and far.

But this is not sad!

The tug of desire,

Coupled with the pain of frustration,

Makes us pioneers of the soul,

Forcing us to pave a new way.

 

To look inside is to find a back door,

Which swings easily open for the emergence of our soul.