Spring and Summer are said to be 'Poetry in the Park' seasons in the outside world - online at 'Rosicrucian Park' everyday is a time for poets to come forth and share their words with others.
Poet or not - This is a place where those who are inclined to poetry can post and share those inspired works with others. Please take the time to share a poem, a quote, a story, yours or another's, and/or simply read and enjoy the poetry, etc. posted here - kind comments appreciated.
Namaste.
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Hello!
I'm new here, but I wanted to share a poem I wrote. I hope you enjoy.
All that glitters
Rhythms in gold
Seeking and finding
Shimmers softly grinding
Wings of a Feather
Ever so softly, flutters
Our sighs become one
Former creations become undone
Spirals gliding across the skies
Just seek the guidance
While Fear becomes Silenced
Our path set before U.S.
Because of those who Created U.S.
Hi Kimberly,
Thanks for sharing. Your poem is lovely. Another place you may want to share it is at the below link - a Forum thread which seems to be the most active for poetry, etc:
Poetry and Prose of the Atlantean Inner Circle - Rosicrucian Resear...
Thank you! That's what I was looking for!
A reprisal of another earlier piece:
The following video is a reading of a poem - THE GREAT REALIZATION - by Tomos Robert - and how the Covid Virus changed the world in a good way:
The Great Realization | Storytime Read Aloud - YouTube
"Tell me the one about the virus again, then I'll go to bed..." It's storytime! The Great Realization, Tomos Robert’s message of hope and resilience during the coronavirus pandemic, has resonated with millions online. Now he’s partnered with award-winning illustrator Nomoco to bring his inspirational poem into a beautiful picture book that’s perfect for anyone, of any age, who needs to see why hindsight is 2020.
What Is The Cosmic?
[From The Rosicrucian Digest February 1931]
Many of our members find it difficult to explain to others what we mean when we use the word "Cosmic." Einstein and other scientists have been using the word "Cosmic" very freely of late, and we often find it in newspaper and magazine articles in connection with scientific statements. When the word "Cosmic" is used by these other persons, it is intended to have a slightly different meaning than when we use it. Let us, therefore, make this distinction.
When science refers to the Cosmic, it is referring to Cosmology and the heavenly phenomena. They mean particularly the planets and heavenly bodies, the stars, comets, and other visible things, and those certain manifestations of Cosmic principles such as the so-called law of gravitation, light, heat, deflected waves of light, etc.
When we refer to the Cosmic we refer to the universal law and power that is back of all of the cosmological manifestations. In other words, we deal with the Cosmic forces and laws, while the scientists deal only with the outer objective manifestations of these powers and laws.
The scientists are dealing with the material aspects of the expression of the power and laws, while we are dealing with the Cosmic Essence and fundamental principles back of all such expressions. Cosmic power passes through and causes many manifestations in man and his consciousness, as well as in the planets and heavenly bodies.
The Cosmic power is a Divine Essence and the Cosmic laws are Divine laws operating in and controlling not only the outer, objective things of the heavens, but all things that exist in the universe and on the surface of the earth.
POEM: Don't Cry For Me Ballerina
By: John Knight
When I look back I find no cause to cry,
For parts not won, chances to dance passed by.
Ambitions unfufilled, the boards not trod,
Castles in the Air - not built - no nearer God!
Seas never sailed and mountains left unclimbed,
Books never written - verses left unrhymed.
Experiments - untested and untried,
The vines and pines I planted - all have died.
My cello silent now, its strings unbowed,
My library to my Old School bestowed,
My lands divided to my progeny,
My horses sold - to old to race for me.
When I look back I find no cause to cry,
I am fullfilled - adieu - but not good-bye!
(found on PoemHunter.com)
This poem was found in the Preface of the book - Yermah the Dorado - which itself has an article in the ATLANTIS Digest. Anyone who has visited San Francisco knows of her beauty and celebrated fog.
SAN FRANCISCO {From The Sea}
by Francis Bret Harte
SERENE, indifferent of Fate,
Thou sittest at the Western Gate;
Upon thy height, so lately won,
Still slant the banners of the sun;
Thou seest the white seas strike their tents,
O Warder of two continents!
And, scornful of the peace that flies
Thy angry winds and sullen skies,
Thou drawest all things, small, or great,
To thee, beside the Western Gate.
O lion’s whelp, that hidest fast
In jungle growth of spire and mast!
I know thy cunning and thy greed,
Thy hard high lust and willful deed,
And all thy glory loves to tell
Of specious gifts material.
Drop down, O Fleecy Fog, and hide
Her skeptic sneer and all her pride!
Wrap her, O Fog, in gown and hood
Of her Franciscan Brotherhood.
Hide me her faults, her sin and blame;
With thy gray mantle cloak her shame!
So shall she, cowled, sit and pray
Till morning bears her sins away.
Then rise, O Fleecy Fog, and raise
The glory of her coming days;
Be as the cloud that flecks the seas
Above her smoky argosies;
When forms familiar shall give place
To stranger speech and newer face;
When all her throes and anxious fears
Lie hushed in the repose of years;
When Art shall raise and Culture lift
The sensual joys and meaner thrift,
And all fulfilled the vision we
Who watch and wait shall never see;
Who, in the morning of her race,
Toiled fair or meanly in our place,
But, yielding to the common lot,
Lie unrecorded and forgot.
This is another poem that Oriah Mountain Dreamer used in her book What We Ache For - besides really liking the poem - the last two lines I really love and will take to heart.
Things to Think, by Robert Bly
If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message
Larger than anything you've ever heard,
Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.
Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,
Maybe wounded and deranged: or think that a moose
Has risen out of the lake, and he's carrying on his antlers
A child of your own whom you've never seen.
When someone knocks on the door, think that he's about
To give you something large: tell you you're forgiven,
Or that it's not necessary to work all the time, or that it's
Been decided that if you lie down no one will die.
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