My Conversation With God

My Conversation With God short poem

Photo by matrianklw

And finally I met him with a list of questions to ask,
Sitting on the cliff why did he let me suffer in the dark,
The forest was hazy and cold with tress covered under frost,
I looked for the footprints but the unbeaten path did not give me any hints,
There was a beautiful phase, but that was a maze
I was in the plight dying for your sight
Finally, the fear of the path and wounded in the bloodbath
I made a shelter in the rath…

Holding my hands and wiping my tears he was calm as he came near,
He too was wounded like me with many darts because he said I was his part,
He replied,” I sent the fireflies to show you the light, but you did not look up in your plight,
I wanted to save you from the forest fire, keeping it cold and dark was not my desire
I held your hand in the dark noises, but you always took me as an oasis
I was always standing by your side but the fear of future kept you blind…
And he answered for everything that I encountered
I asked him for forgiveness as my heart was filled with bitterness
God looked into my eyes, calming all the tides
And now I feel so light with everything beautiful and bright

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

My Questions

My Questions short poem

On wrong side of truth a prophecy burns. A conflict of your own choosing when more was less. Do you need some divine intervention in resolving human questions? The innocence of a sunflower will not blame the moon for dark

Conversation

Conversation short poem

There was no end to looking inside. I was crumbling. Unnamed homing in of anguish, not knowing me. The wasted questions of revival. A depleted dawn of a failed sun? A river war between two hills for a moon? Time

Wwii-a Poem Of My Grandfather John Walker In Wwii

Wwii a Poem Of My Grandfather John Walker In Wwii short poem

John Walker served his country in WWII It was something he felt obligated to do. In combat he risked his life Even while he was facing strife He wrote his family back at home While he was on another roam

I Am Burning My Bridges

I Am Burning My Bridges short poem

To search you I am burning my wheels. Put your hands on my shoulders for opening the book. To read the message between the words. When the time comes I want you to smear my ashes on the stones of

My Fault

My Fault short poem

Your genome was climbing down. I hate to count the steps. Feathers hurt sometimes after the end of flying. How far was the moment of dust? You were still swimming in saline water. A collective guilt will pay the price.