Everyday Miracles – A Poem About Finding God in Ordinary Things

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Everyday Miracles – A Poem About Finding God in Ordinary Things

The clamor of your wisdom claps
like a thousand hands in unison throughout the forest,
calling from every treetop,
and whispering within every breath the north wind blows.
Your wisdom can be found in the simplicity of a dew drop
and within the caw of a congregation of crows.

You are an invisible hand, always laboring,
opening and closing doors as you see fit –
not always on my time frame,
not always giving me access to the rooms I wish,
but often times I find ignorance is bliss.
For the paths I most yearn to walk down
you wall off, knowing they lead to my demise.

You are the wise King,
always leading, but serving unceasingly.
With each new day you bring,
I am astonished at your beauty –
as long as I make the time to open my eyes,
as long as my awareness is focused on you
and turned away from the desires of my mind.

Your miracles come in small packages,
constantly sent, but rarely opened.
I look for you in grandiose experiences,
but you keep gently tugging at my sleeve,
urging me to put on my leather gloves
and dig for you in the dirt of the garden.

If I’m not careful,
I can become oblivious to the everyday mystery –
the beauty of a daffodil,
the way sunlight rests upon my windowsill,
the spirit that speaks when my mind gets still,
and the non-coincidental meetings of strangers,
sharing the exact conversations I need to hear.

Open my eyes when they are blind to your majesty,
so that I may witness your glory
in every root, rock, river, and ravine.
May I read the love letters you’ve written
upon every stump I pass in the forest,
every deer that crosses my path,
and every squirrel that leaps from limb to limb.
May I marvel at your everyday miracles
and find your fingerprints upon every piece of evidence
in this case called life.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley


 

photo credit: Ontelaunee Creek Tributary (1) via photopin (license)

The Weeping Willow – A Poem About Nature

weeping willow

The Weeping Willow – A Poem About Nature and Trees

The forests and fields are fading,
Replaced by cookie cutter houses and pleasure centers.
Quick! Get a glimpse of the soil
As it’s tilled one last time,
Before it’s fruit is forever sealed beneath concrete,
Whose paved arms don’t let us sink in,
But stand firm and hard at our feet.
We used to run around barefoot in the summer breeze,
The rich, soft earth padding our steps.
But we’ve cut you off,
And now our royal pavements offer no comfort –
they dash and scrape our souls
As our bare feet walk upon them.

The forests where we once watched birds
And observed animals, mesmerized by their beauty,
Are now parking lots littered with empty paper bags
And shopping carts blowing with the breeze.
We’ve damned up rivers, drained the land,
And raped Mother Nature for every last penny –
Turned the purest Vestal Virgin into a dirty slut.

Where will we take our sons and daughters
To teach them about life?
No, not humanity, but life as a whole.
I know it may come as a shock,
But we’re not the only species on this planet.
What museum could ever compare
To the beauty of nature’s gallery,
Showcasing the work of the greatest artist
The world will ever know,
Whose palette holds new mysteries everyday
And who redefines beauty each and every second,
Whose masterpieces include works such as
“The Sunrise”, “The Sunset”, “The Moon”, and “The Stars”?

We give a damn about our domestic animals,
Who we use as accessories to lives filled with void –
That is as long as we can control them
And they submit to our slavery.
But as Fido gets upgraded outfits,
The rest of his kind are driven deeper
Into seclusion and find themselves without homes.
Yet, we’re quick to scream, “Call animal services”
As soon as they start showing up in our cities
Because they’ve got nowhere else to go.

We’re now finishing up
What we did to Native Americans all those years ago,
Driving out anything that reminds us we’re not in control
And trying to tame the untamable,
Driving beauty out to the Pacific sea,
While we replace it with selfishness and greed.
We designate reservations for nature,
Assign it an acre and boxed in patch of land
And make sure to conform it to our demands.

It’s cool to not eat meat
And believe hunting is for insensitive, feeble minds.
But hunting is a drop of water
Compared to the endless sea of injustice that materialism
Lashes and strikes out against nature everyday.
So if all you’re going to do is complain
About the travesty of eating what was meant to be eaten –
Get out of the way.

Our mountains are crumbling.
Our rivers drying up or polluted with waste.
Forests are growing thinner every year,
And it’s getting harder and harder to not
See our cities out the other side.
And while man sits pondering
His next quantum leap,
The willow sags over her pool of tears,
Hiding her downcast eyes with her branches, and weeps.

 

-Poem Written by Justin Farley


 

photo credit: Food Stories via photopin cc

The Cardinal – A Poem

Holiday Weekend Birds 2009

The Cardinal – A Poem

Scarlet red against the snowy white,
I see you at the feeder
munching on sunflower seed.

You do not know me.
But I know you.
I’ve watched you from the window-sill,
perched upon the feeder,
cracking seeds open with your beak
in the early morning winter,
ruffling your feathers to keep yourself warm,
hopping along the frozen ground
to pickup any leftovers that may have fallen,
but quick to fly back into the bare bushes
that shield you from the harsh, hollow wind.

You may not know it,
but I have been watching over you.
Making sure to keep your feeder full,
making sure you can find food
without a thorough search
and able to store up enough energy
to keep you warm and alive until spring.

But unknowingly, you have fed me as well.
I look through the glass, longing to see you.
Wishing I could reach out and touch you
and whisper a simple “thank you” and you’d understand.

You are my beauty
against the backdrop of nothing.
You are a fresh reminder of life
when winter leaves me stale and dying.

You give me a dose of laughter
as I watch you twitch your head back and forth,
appearing confused and never able to decipher
the landscape around you.

You remind me of the freedom of simplicity
when my mind becomes wound up like a complicated clock,
clanging with gears and compounded by time.

You are my company when the bitter cold
leaves me locked behind doors.
Dare I call you a friend?

You add color to a film reel
that replays over and over in black and white.
Yes, you and I need each other.
We go on together, unconsciously feeding each other life.


photo credit: Moschell via photopin cc