inspirational
Inspirational poetry is just the thing to lift your spirits or rejuvenate your creativity.
Vigor Anew
Compassion, coupled together, with a few other people, is a fountain of blessing. Vigor anew! Reignited. It is like a mega battery charging station for others who need empowering. We link spiritual arms, in militant battle against the enemy who continuously beats our souls down, attempting to dig premature graves. We write. We rise. Sometimes, we fall. But, we rise again, and again, until the end begins. Then we realize, the end is simply the start of a new beginning. The beginning of eternity. The eternity that has, not so secretly, been seated on the precious thrones of our hearts.
By Rowan Finley 4 months ago in Poets
'SURVIVAL OF THE TRUTH'. Content Warning.
This is reflection of a true story in the week of the summer solstice moon upon arrival in LA June 16, 2016. Now I can reflect as I need to sing again, love again, and talk to my angels of light. I rode the train back to LA, through many miles over mountains and deserts. I kissed the ground when I got back to LA.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 5 months ago in Poets
Ask a Lot
I know what it is to run and not grow weary, to walk and not grow faint. It’s to be underwater, and to still have the ability to breathe. It’s when your body is screaming release, but your heart is steady as ever. Its when instead of surfacing for the comfort of air, you push harder into the depths. When you search for those who know not what it is to breathe in the deep. It’s the moment you find them and give them every bit of air you have because you know the moment you hope once more yours will be refilled. And they don’t know how to do that. But you do, so you keep hoping, you keep breathing, and you keep holding on to their existence. It’s when your muscles are fatigued from the exertion and you can’t swim any longer. It’s when the pressure of being under for so long attempts to collapse your lungs. It’s when you’re tempted to stop breathing not because you can’t anymore, but because you’ve forgotten which way is up and which way is down, and you’re scared you’ll never be able to find the surface again. It’s the split second decision you make when you’re caught between light and dark. It’s the moment you’re about to give in to the darkness and look up one last time and realize, you’re moving. You rack your brains and think how? How is this possible when my body can move itself no longer? It’s that breathtaking, beautiful, brilliant moment that you realize your hope, the reason for the air in your lungs, is floating you upwards. It’s fighting for you, and bringing you closer and closer to the sky. It’s in that split second that your strength is renewed once more, and you begin to soar on the wings of eagles.
By Alexis Bre5 months ago in Poets