Spiritualism poems bring the best collection of short and long spiritualism poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great spiritualism rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these spiritualism poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on spiritualism are here for you.
What do you believe and why do you believe it? Our world has shaped who we are physically and spiritually. We are different colors, speak different languages and have different gods based on where we were born. The accident of
Though life exists but death is sure Is called Universal Fact Going against nature is followed by calamities is called Universal Act Nature deals tactfully with those not abiding by its rules is called Universal Tact Mankind, therefore,needs to Abide
Been a Christian, been Jew. A Mormon and a Muslim too. After walking each path, finding none quite right, my eyes opened wide to true simple light. To love and hear compassions sweet song, it was spiritualism whispering all along.
In a cool blanket of water floating, the expansive green leaf gliding, on a lake serene and shimmering, caressed by the breeze mesmerizing, with tranquility So alluring. A symbol of vastness, a sign of openness, pink and white they float
nothing more frightning than waiting for an uncertain arrival, but then that uncertainty seems but a minor prick under the skin, one overtaken and masked by the uncertainty within. the answers very slick and sly which is why we have
Nestled high in the Rocky Mountain Range, a mystical valley is uniquely situated. Eloquently encased by snow draped peaks. A breading ground for Hoary Marmots. Continually feeding a high spirited pack of massive wolves, is found. These massive wolves are
Drizzling rain, temperature falling to 32, freezing sleet coming soon. droplets of ice starting to form, snow is ah coming!, they say before noon. as the noon day approaches the snowflakes are starting to come, snowflakes as big as half-dollars
Outraged film and dirt life. The descent was complete. A shadow under the moon walks past the lake, comes out of the body. Every dream leaves an imprint on the glass. Will never drink the moonlight again. The blank surrender
Must bow before Omnicient There had been no dearth of grace in Must start schemes of things with His name synonym of kindness The Creator of all substance The Essence of Charm around Latent but exposed Beautiful to the best
With their backs to the sun They ask “why” and “where” Focused on having fun They refuse to even care I tell them “turn around, It’s closer than you think” But they continue to look down Without a single blink
Happiness Happens , When the Sun shines , bird rhymes , flower blooms , and river flows . Happiness Happens , When the airs breeze , ice freeze , clouds thunder , and kids wonder . Happiness Happens , When
Overturned, years of stasis Paralysis by mental blockade A political metamorphosis. Afoot at the general election; Vengeance of the Manifesto. The interregnum, the entrenched vote Tranches appear, on Revised Register Deceased coded, in numbers resurrect. Beyond the grave, claim their
Maybe, just maybe, love is not a forever thing you know? Maybe it is just an evening spent taking crowded trains to unknown stations figuring announcements in foreign languages and wandering walks through dilapidated bylanes full of squishy muck and
Was it necessary to see, what you wanted me to see, when I was keeping open my wound to hear the unheard scream? What was that which was getting in air? A little disjointed time, asking peace for the land,
The Sun on my hands a shaft of light from somewhere. I first felt the warmth then the heat, the hands perspire the ray lights up countless jewels Diamond crusted gloves on moulded clay. Hands caressed each other, for time’s
It gathers, always been here. Waiting within. Pushing to control. Finding a home in some. Fighting those it can’t control. Weakness, exploits, control, power. Power/technology enough now to control the world. Insidious it hides it waits for global domination.
You’re my personal brand of cocaine, surely you should suppress the suffering and numb the pain. My rose petal lips are engulfed in your kiss of death. I worship at your feet, when I have you, who really needs meth?
The All Destroyer, Leaving nothing untouched The smile of innocence curved to that of forgetfulness. Words soothing, once pecking the fruit of togetherness. A glance of kindness, now forgotten in deliberate ignorance. Feigning to flow, yet stuck in the middle
THE YEAR I WAS BORN we were still fighting the Vietnam war, Nixon was all caught up in the drama of Watergate then forced to resign by summertime handing his key to the White House over to vice president Ford,
Our childhood flew, watching you toil so hard! Days and night appeared almost the same, when we looked up to you… Every time we were infirm, I remembered you stayed up all night with us. Stunning us the very next
Stone A gust alive; a redwood dead Sleep softwood your peaceful breath A gust dies Stone in stillness; still, revealed From emptiness a gust begins, like water, carving the stone around A grain of sand, unknown, found Reach for the
Measure not the sincerity of friends, Time will show you worth of all, Those with you in cheers and delight, Probably won’t answer to your call, When you’re in trouble or lagging behind, Most of them’ll fly and flee. Lose
Sometimes it pours like hot drips of melted wax from a candlestick; your migraine. I wanted armistice. Untangle the lies, I am not in your firing line. The tulips in the barrel of your gun cannot forgive the bullets. There
It is night again, And the darkness wakes it all up. Rooms left to collect, the dust of Fault and dissent, and the Forgotten madness of bygone days. We have created so much with nothing, And done nothing with so
Love is a nicotine, hurts but, it’s mine. The angry pulse feels like a needle tussle, ain’t no relief, drunk in your memory old monk. Blood rushing in cold, as the moment unfolds, Mind, all numb, noise of the silent
The voices, unheard The image, unseen. The crevasse that separates The analysis from my mind. It can’t reach me, as I cannot reach it myself. But still I am told to reach For the goal that I cannot see. Before,
Time capsule in gangrene foot. It was madness of the legs. There were no sins in the ghetto. Only illicit distillation and girls changing the beds. It stinks when he says he was god. What was the ism of the
An hour from St. Valentine’s day .. ‘Tis 7:00! Ring Ring Ring. . “Happy Valentine’s day ” “I love you..” “I love you too,honey ! ” “you know what ….” And talk’st they thus.. ‘Tis 7:15! The moving box of
That was it. Everything he said made sense to me. Not the content of the presentation, The nature of the delivery. Outside of jealousies, Around common practices, Ground breaking, no less, A salesman beyond confidence. It wasn’t about town and
Through the window pane I see, A drenched delphinium, A mortal enjoying intoxicating debauchery, An ensign in tatters, A hot blood growing cold in the storming jitters, And me, in the rear view-still “sedentary”. Hushed!!! For the carousel taking away