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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.


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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...

      Poetry and Prose of the Atlantean Inner Circle
      Poet or not - This is a place where those who are inclined to poetry or prose can post and share those inspired works with others.  Please take the t…
    • Thank you!  That's what I was looking for!

  • A reprisal of another earlier piece:

    A Magical Tale
    A funny thing happened; on my way to the Mall;
    On this cold winters night; wrapped in my shawl.
    There on the pathway, dressed all in tatters;
    Stood a mysterious being; saying Love is what matters.
    My first impulse to turn; get myself out of sight,
    This mysterious being; sure gave me a fright.
    But being inquisitive; and wanting to know;
    I asked him his name; and to whence did he go.
    His name was just Nicholas; on his way to the zoo,
    To visit his reindeer; that's all he could do.
    He said he got lost; on his way thru the sky,
    With gifts for good children; his sled piled high.
    He can hardly remember; the last time he was home.
    Everything got fuzzy, when just over Rome.
    A rare wave in the atmosphere; caused by a gnome,
    Spun the sled to-and-fro, towards a strange aerodrome.
    The reindeer were weary; and brought the sled down.
     What now can I do? He asked, with a frown.
    A prisoner of time-warp; memory of him now erased;
    With no past or a future; a forever present he faced.
    He went on to describe; a land in the North,
    A place full of Life; from whence he came forth.
    I thought to myself; this strange vision not real;
    A mysterious being with reindeer; and a sled with no wheel.
    As he told me his story; imagination my memory renewed.
    I must help this being; what I now did conclude.
    But how can I do this?  Help give him a start?
    A sled and those reindeer; were not in my chart.
    With a full moon shining; I gave it my all.
    In the light of the moonbeams; snowflakes did fall.
    Was this more magic? I knew not a dream.
    From the angels in heaven; a celestial scheme?
    Then the thought hit me; this is all about Love.
    Get in the sled, Nicholas; and I’ll give you a shove.
    You can pick up the reindeer; on your way out of town;
    Change out of those tatters; into this red and white gown.
    Love was the answer; of this I was sure;
    A gift from this Nicholas; a beloved being of yore.
    Within a wink he was gone; on his way in the night;
    Another gift he delivered, with Love, was the Light.
    I turned on the pathway, looked up at the sky,
    With Love in my heart, said to Nicholas, goodbye.
    Was this my imagination? The music of tinkling bells;
    Nicholas calling to his reindeer; loud happy yells.
    Who would believe me; this strange magical tale.
    Nicholas again a memory; Light and Love will prevail.
    I still have my doubts; in winter no one flies North;
    There must be a connection; with what is brought forth.
    The Gifts of Life, Light and Love; Joy, Happiness, Mirth;
    Old friends, New Beginnings; and Peace on Earth.
    Christmas, Santa Claus, Christmas Motif
  • 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.

  • Journey Into Light
    As I enter the Celestial Sanctum; I surround myself with Light.
    Sometimes I wonder if I need to; in this mist of Cosmic White.
    No longer in the physical; A Being of Light I became;
    Free to travel in the ether; My fear of separation overcame.
    I danced among the Masters; and floated high above;
    I soared from place to place; receiving the Gift of Love.
    My time for wonder limited; It is time now to return;
    To my life upon this planet; My task to teach and learn.
    I enter my home sanctum; The scent of incense strong;
    Two sacred candles still burning; All is right and no-thing wrong.
    I hear music softly playing; As into my body I return;
    From my Journey into Light; Another mystical sojourn.
    My senses fully woken; I now become aware;
    The Journey into Light; was made to me so clear.
    Surrender of the Spirit; Will bring you to the Light;
    Is a message from the Masters; I bring you with delight.
    This was a Cosmic Initiation; On a higher-level realm.
    Not just another moment; of relinquishing the helm.
    The inner peace I'm feeling; Is like nothing felt before;
    A mix of Light and Life and Love; Fill my soul for evermore.
    Image result for journey into light images
  • 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

    Think in ways you've never thought before
    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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