Religion poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of religion poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on religion are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Great Maker beyond human knowledge. Our time is short. Our knowledge finite. Reality infinite. We struggle to understand. We create structure to make it so. We build and grow the best we can. It’s a struggle every day you know.
Ignite the barren clay, I need some rare elements to tie a thread to the moon. Upstaging the sun. Not aspirational he was stripped to become radical like the dark blood of a white soul. Pentadactylous was losing the big
Asphyxiated by curled hands. Punishment for tainted moon, it has floated down to darker side of continence. You push the body in wall, Coal burns in the eyes. The shadow at last, leaves the body. The high priest, goes for
Messengers of God came To reform men All toiled hard to spread goodness and upbraid vices Generally they suffered and were agonized Noble minds believed and weak minds not So happened with the wit of every learned or enlightened person
One beautiful Sunday afternoon, down by the valley where the waters cascading down the rocks upon the stony bed I sat, lost in reverie on my life continuous struggles when His shadows appeared, silhouetted against the fading sun upon the
And so in darkness shines the light That pierces through those fears. And fights The beat of doubting pangs that plagues This passionate heart. Our souls are quenched when you are here In warmth, in love In Eucharistic prayer. So
What is God- thy name be there! Had you been your equal peeper. Debate, dispute, dueling mass! Over there to save their God, do muss. I laugh thinking, “God be saved!” Ha! But I knew else that we to be
Only those with the wisest minds -the oldest eyes, remember the days of love truly lost. The woman with the rage speckled iris, the man with the world-heavy curved spine, Holding aloft thy heads as the wisping breaths of each
I was dreaming in silence A wave of division woke me up The wave was concocted The wave was fabricated The wave changed everything From religion, politics, traditions and faith The wave said you were misled The wave said you
For in all that foraging, through the minds eye To kindle the peace; to wounds You might try to placate With words, in that private high. To some, you would care With their souls laid bare And their supplicants made
Commandment Six, thou shalt not kill, Forbade taking a life, But still it is in God’s good name The man brings down his knife. Said Jesus, Love thy neighbour as Yourself, but even still, Muslims, Jews, and blacks, and gays,
Journey was well planned to and fro in Volvos; but for the V.I.P traffic, frustrating long queues and expensive stale food in hotels with god’s name, we enjoyed every moment! There is something mysterious with life in temple towns and
Keep Your Heads Up, Keep Your Heads Up High. Some Days Will Be Rough But Don’t Cry. Things Will Get Better; You Won’t Always Be Struggling Forever. The Day Would Come When Things Will Change. I Know Right Now
Lord if I died today I’d be a better man for knowing You You gave my life dignity, purpose and wisdom too Exposed all my weakness to myself forgiving like no other My Father, oh my Lord, beside me always
What do you believe? Why do you believe it? How did you learn it? Who taught you? What where their motives. Ideas not men rule the world. Some believe in religion, some do not. Some believe in life after death,
How will it change when we know? How will civilization be rearranged? All that we known comes from one place and time, one little speck in space. Great religions over eons have arisen telling all how things must certainly be.
Let it remain ovarian pure. After strangulation the truth, for hypoxic euphoria. Flies in your face the dirt, the denial, the terracotta of superposition of speech, hiding self-interest. Blackened Crozier for wrinkled crotch, drops the ashes of love on unopened
Liquidity crunch turns you into lip slave. The candlelight bed has the broken legs. Asleep by the boat you sway in dark. You are still a number in the books to be fed. A jigsaw puzzle in the economic boom
I cannot bare to see it now! It’s symbol so forlorn. The Passion we so fondly show To place your crown of thorn! And yet, it harbours life, in droves; For all things come from you! This delicate, sense filled,
Measuring mantra to the drops falling from tap a visitor to the abode of Khwaja suffers pushes from the crowd and yet remains thirsty: the Khadim promises prayers Gharib Nawaz feeds the soul he returns to the Sun City through
Blinded by religion the world is, Touched by holiness, everythings at ease. The parents of a girl of seven Got her a holy guide to make her reach heaven. His deeds and thoughts were said to be long, His greatness
Walking through the twilight between reality and myth Stepping in the shadows of cross and monolith Chinese whispers running through religious verse Fairy tales told from baptism to hearse Children kneel, hands clasped with bowed heads Praying for angels to