Hear My Call!

Hear My Call! short poem

Photo by C Jill Reed

“What is truth? said jesting pilate, and would not stay for an answer.”
Bacon, my greetings I report, of his greatness though, he couldn’t be the cleanser”
Man never understands and accepts the sense revealed to him beforehand,
Experience, they said is the best teacher, but who want to be a secondhand?
They call God at times of agony but denounce him when in pleasure,
They say he exists not, even if he does, then in nature and at most, in leisure,
That, in the Sun, Moon, Stars, Trees, Water, a Cow or in human form they see God,
This idea I can’t conceive, I try to hear them out. But all I hear sounds just odd.
How can God be in any forms? For what benefit? Why can’t he be in his form of God?
If all these are him, then anything can be him, and anything is nothing – no God?
Science has disrupted our thought-process, Can we still think for ourselves?
Yay! and Nay! people are dispossessed, Ideas too many, so we kill ourselves?
If the sun, the moon, a sacred being or a source of milk can all be a deity,
Which should I love and obey for giving the rules of life? What deserves my piety?
I’ll like to ask, who created the sun and all that nature holds.
Is it by accident they exist or have someone created them? when the truth unfolds,
Falsehood perishes. Men of Intellect do ponder and reflect, for they don’t need to be told.
I see in them, beings whose brains think aptly and aren’t sold.
Think about the architect who designed nature!
And who has always been there to nurture!
O! MAN please hear my call!
Hear my call!

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

1 Comment on "Hear My Call!"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest

Maa shaa Allah!wonderful and explanatory poem


My Only Friend

My Only Friend short poem

Am I Alive, or am I dead? Is this all just a dream inside my head? I feel like I’m losing my grip. Quick say something, anything before I slip. Nightmares slowly creeping. Has he finally come to do the

From My Journals ‘love’

From My Journals love short poem

The very essence of love is uncertain, A relentless thumping of the heart. I must speak to you by such means as they are within my reach. He pierces my soul driving me into madness. I am half agony, half

My Friend Crystal

My Friend Crystal long poem

I am the women that hasn’t been able to lose all her baby weight. I am the dad that works two jobs and always gets home late. I am the high school cheerleader trying to be someone shes not. I

From My Journals ‘anxiety’

From My Journals anxiety prose poem

The moon awaits eagerly in the same pedestal it ignited my passion. What lips, my lips have kissed, are long forgotten. The memories easily quickened as a few puddles along the way I voluntarily stepped in. What arms have lain

From My Journals ‘cinnamon’

From My Journals cinnamon prose poem

He saw things in a way that others did not, he was the only one that saw my dreams differently, I became beautiful with the light of his smiling eyes. There my soul drifted render in angle to give the