The Almighty

“Water” Painting by Jia Lu

Have your own Gods and leave me choose mine

Mine’s the gold of a sunshine

Mine’s a storm invading the infinite

Mine’s a monk meditating all night

Mine’s a cloud guarding the above

Mine’s a couple fallen in true love

Mine’s a raindrop holding life’s essence

Mine’s a beggar sharing few crumbs and being generous


Have your own Gods and leave me choose mine

Mine’s the gold of a sunshine

Mine’s a mountain facing years

Mine’s an orphan sunk in tears

Mine’s a valley after rain; wet

Mine’s a farmer sowing lands with his sweat

Mine’s a rock standing ages

Mine’s a patient still praying in late cancer stages


Oh Have your Gods and leave me choose mine

Mine’s the gold of a sunshine

Mine’s a spring in bloom

Mine’s a widow paying thanksgiving in her doom

Mine’s a tree purifying air

Mine’s a child in a wheelchair

Mine’s a plant in bud

Mine’s a soldier out of blood


Just have your Gods and leave me choose mine

Mine’s the gold of a sunshine

 Mine’s got galaxies in his name to preach

Mine’s got no book but love to reach

Mine’s is everywhere; no need to search

Mine’s lives in no mosque, in no church

Mine’s not the one you need to be a priest to cherish

Mine’s universal; not a Buddhist, Muslim, Christian or Jewish

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77 thoughts on “The Almighty

    • Thanks Pete…it’s just a reply to those sinners preaching that God has an identity..to those making people fear his majesty instead of loving him…to those who think they know about his glory the most…

      • Now that I am at a PC instead of the tablet, I was able to find –
        ‘Of Heroes’
        I have never much admired heroes and celebrities
        or public martyrs
        Whose deeds are properly applauded and whose vanity is warmed
        even behind bars.
        Nor have I been taken with chastity and celibacy and varied
        and sundry virginities.
        my heart is moved by the middle-aged lady who walks her cat
        or curbs her dog in the early evening
        And goes home alone to a little apartment
        where virginity is a cold fact
        And not a jewel in anyone’s crown,
        Where martyrdom is not measured by white robes or assassination,
        But by a single place setting and a lonely two-week vacation.

        Written by James Kavanaugh

  1. I walk in the light of the Silver moon as well as the Golden Sun…
    This is wonderfully written
    I enjoyed it very much…
    Thank You for sharing with us….
    and Thank you for following my thoughts.
    i appreciate your kindness…
    I am enjoying wandering through your
    corridors of thoughts…

    )0(
    maryrose

    Take Care…
    You Matter

      • long day of listening to people preach “their’s is the way”
        and I am not sure how I came back around but I did, and it was like the wind blew away the others words and sat yours in front of me again…
        it is now a breath of fresh air for the SpringEquinox….
        Tank you again!

        Take care…
        )0(
        BlessedBe

    • thanks…it’s so kind of you& I’m honored
      i’ll add thanks to you to my first award because it’s been few days on that & you know i don’t want to drive boredom to my followers… your name will be added to the caption of versatile award logo at the side of my home page, thanks again; you’ve made my morning(K)
      & congrats to you

  2. Dear Mira Jay,
    desculpe-me mas escreverei no meu português, pois falo tanto inglês quanto entendo de física quântica!

    É muito bom vislumbrar as potencialidades que os blogs nos abrem ao nos permitiram conversarmos sobre o que produzimos com pessoas que dificilmente conheceríamos por outros meios que não os digitais.

    Achei seu poema um pouco longo demais. Porém ele é belíssimo e a temática é muito boa. Eu me senti contemplado com seu texto e o resumiria em: “Tenha seus deuses e me deixe com o meu. Meu deus é ateu.”.

    Um beijo enorme e um grande prazer conhecer seu blog.

    J.

    • Glad to know u did…
      whenever i see the ignorant talking in the name of God when they know nothing about him, i just get frustrated & this was kind of breathing….
      thanks for dropping by

  3. I love this poem. BTW. Mine is fractals of light, mine is the diamond of dew in morn’s first light.Mine is the hand stretched out to help, mine is a deserted beach except for kelp. Mine like yours is everywhere …do they know each other …………… do they care. 😀

    • it’s pleasure seeing a Spiritual like you seeing my almighty as a source of love,peace&goodness not as a rebellious move against God…
      Thanks for reading&commenting
      &May you be blessed by his glory

  4. Who knows who, what, where, God is. As Sonny Terry, the blind harmonica player sang, “I can’t see love but I can feel it. and that’s good enough for me.”

    • Yea..I do believe that blindness when hits the eyes; beats can create perfect sight, but the problem is when blindness hits the deep then no eyes can see even if the original are wide opened..

  5. This feels like an anthem for me – extraordinary humanity, in what is a thorny subject, but you took away the thorns carefully, one by one. I remember flying back from South America 20 years ago, after seeing so much killing in El Salvador in the name of organised religion (well, they, the fanatical religious government, ended up even shooting the country’s bishop Romero, when even he said ”enough killing”, so it went further than ”officalised religion” to people deciding they were now god), I remember a nun sitting next to me in the plane, offering me a cough sweet, her bitterness heartbreaking as she wept, her hatred for the men in Rome so strong as she recounted her experience helping the peasants of El Salvador and pleading with her church to stop playing politics and helping to cause such misery.
    I like the ideals they have had over the past years in the Baltic republics (Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania), their belief in the power of nature and symbolic wisdom of trees.
    Thank you for this piece Mira. Absolutely beautiful in its detail, and so real.

    • Thanks for sharing an incident of your life..
      &bows to those who had survived the repression of the Russians due to their dances & love to nature!

      Love & Light

"Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought & the thought has found its words"; I know mine's make no sun shines, but....YOU can tell better!

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