Be Still and Grow
©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson
photo by Francesca Woodman
Sometimes, life’s colors spin away and set us spinning, too.
The air about us thickens, and we lose our point of view.
These spiritual poems may be used free of charge, for non-commercial use only. Spirituality is a powerful force for good in our world. I hope these spiritual poems will be a source of inspiration and peace to all who read them. With that purpose in mind, I am making them available for public use and enjoyment. (Please email a request for permission before using one of my spiritual poems. Include full copyright information on every copy. For internet use, a link back to the poem on this site is required.)
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Sometimes, life’s colors spin away and set us spinning, too.
The air about us thickens, and we lose our point of view.
When trouble steals the blood that flows
beneath my rosy cheek—
when ashes gather round my eyes
and lips refuse to speak—
I let the sorrow carry me
on silvered wings—so high
that even in the darkness
I return as butterfly.
∞§∞
When Buddah was on his death bed, he noticed his young disciple, Anan, was weeping.
“Why are you weeping, Anan?” he asked.
“Because the light of the world is about to be extinguished, and we will be in darkness.”
The Buddha summoned up all his remaining energy and spoke what were to be his final words on earth.
“Anan, Anan, be a light unto yourself.”
– Buddhist scripture
There isn’t enough darkness in all the world to snuff out the light of one little candle.
–Robert Alden
Before you can see the light, you have to deal with the darkness.
–Anonymous
Faith is seeing the light with your heart when all your eyes see is darkness.
–Usman Ismaheel
I saw also that there was an ocean of darkness and death, but an infinite ocean of light and love, which flowed over the ocean of darkness.
–George Fox
Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all the darkness.
–Desmond Tutu
Other related poems are pictured with titles below. For more options, you can visit the home page and click on an appropriately themed category like “Hope Poems,” “Hardship Poems,” etc.
Moths are drawn to light
and so am I,
wings awave against
the darkened sky.
Free to fly yet
bound by naked need,
anchored to a source
I won’t concede.
A merry heart will not be bound
by winter snow or frozen earth.
No weathered brow or soil-stained cheek
can quell the buoyant lines of mirth.
On a quiet summer morning,
after night’s unbroken rest,
I look past the tree-framed window
and discover I am blessed.
I am from gentle ties that bind; from farmland and baked bread and small, sturdy hands, from goodness and grittiness, grounded in virtue and faith.
One faded girl in sepia,
eyes bright and opened wide.
Her life was sweet and simple then,
with nothing much to hide.
Thrust in the sickle, the land is rich,
and the fruit thereof is sweet.
The labor of love has been performed;
the cycle is complete.