Translation: I have no words to say, And if I say, It won't be enough either. You became the river of love, And the ocean of friendship. Even the sky does not Know your limit. It's enough if you're Always near. Your arms are open. And when I hug you Feels like the world is in you. Oh my dear dad, In my every birth I'm your child.
Translation: Today's moments Slide in tomorrows And pass away as memories Gone with the wind Prevails like the remains Of long old history Of which we assume Is mine a story Bearing this thought As an open theatre Is Life.
Ok so, I wrote something a couple nights ago that God had really placed on my heart, it's somewhat long, but I really hope you all find it worth reading. • • • • You know I never thought about us people as jars of clay so intensely till now. You see, clay jars break, it's pretty much guaranteed in such a dangerous world, but unfortunately we all want a quick fix, something that's on hand in the immediate moment.
We look for white glue, tape, or even glue sticks to put ourselves back together, but we don't get any better, we've only put on an act of "looking" better, but we're still broken horribly.
We have the option of temporary fixes, but then we also have the option of going to the potter himself, we can have all the cracks fixed, our void inside filled, and made stronger for the next fall.
But we don't like it, we have the edges chipped away, a time of waiting for the repair to be complete, changes to the jar that we may not really like, yet it's all necessary for a better and stronger, more complete jar of clay.
When we avoid the potter and his free repairs, we show that we want a broken and useless jar of clay, that we don't want to put the time and effort into a better jar, that we're satisfied with "It will do" or "It's just fine" when really, it will not serve it's purpose in such a condition.
Those who go to the potter end up having such a stronger jar, a bigger inside to hold a greater supply, a more obvious beauty is seen, and it's purpose is clearly being fulfilled greatly.
We as God's masterpiece, His jars of clay, need to be repaired from being broken by this world, from whatever it may be. He's there to heal us, and we may not like it very much, but in the long run, it creates a stronger life which personally, I'm willing to put effort into.
One last thing as I close. When you place such a prized possession into someone else's hands, you learn over time to trust that person, over time you learn to love the potter and believe he knows what he's doing, that all the time and effort put into that small jar of clay, will make it more amazing, and when you allow him to do his work you start to see beauty in the time repairing.
Spring Still waits To return The cold wind blows Winter’s decision To stay a bit longer The snow refuses to melt It’s a stubborn day in the North But, as the sun beats down to the ground, Spring welcomes each ray, to have the last say' - Heidi Sands
An Etheree is a 10-line poem in which each line follows a syllable count that matches the line number. The first line has one syllable, the second has two and so on. The poem is unrhymed but has rhythm, meaning, imagery, and sometimes an underlying second meaning. Etheree Taylor Armstrong created this form of poetry.
Do you know that the word TANGIBLE means perceptible by touch.
Use the word TANGIBLE in a sentence and post it in the comments below.
I felt it on the horizon The clouds closing in Chills ensnaring me Where to even begin
My heart grew heavy Rain flooded my soul I was so overwhelmed Storms taking its toll
Will the wind ever stop Can I just have a breath Or is this the end here The waters my death
Falling through the sea Suffocation taking hold But here's where it flips For a story once untold
A man came walking Peace in His heart Strength in His eyes And a voice full of art
He came with a hand It was fully outstretched Couldn't fully believe it Seemed too far fetched
Yet believe me when I say I had thought I was gone No one could save me I just didn't even belong
Yet there He had stood No anger or frustration I couldn't really believe it His full loving captivation
I didn't deserve His hand I only deserved to drown Yet again He's there for me On His knee with a crown
Now here I am living Head above the water Didn't think I'd make it Yet I've gone farther
What then do I now say The storms really tried But failed miserably For I haven't died
I have my moments Choking on the past Messing up regularly Yet it surely won't last
The shore is in sight A long awaited home This ship might sink But I no longer roam
Hey everyone!!! I do apologize for not having posted anything for weeks, I've been crazy with life right now and poetry hasn't sparked in my heart or mind either so I wouldn't have written anything very good which isn't fair to y'all.
I know this is pretty long, but I do hope it's worth your time because this one is very special to me. Thank you all for sticking around and continuing to read my writings as well as encouraging me to continue writing them, you all are more amazing and important than you know❤
Every writer has a unique style of writing. We all get inspired from that. Some are known for their poetry forms, some for their name, some for series, some for uniqueness. Today we give you the freedom to plagiarize that unique style. It should be just style not the words. Be original in your words as we are against plagiarism.
You should not be praising the writer, as we know you admire them. You just need to write the way they write. The uniqueness, the form, their shadow in your write, in your words. Mention the name in caption whose writing style you admire and will be writing.