Tag Archives: Mystery

O Peace of Night

O Peace of Night

Peace of Night

O Peace of Night

Thou art my love and my longing.
‘Tis of thee I pine the day long,
Till twilight to thee comes thronging,
And shadows gather for thy song.

While errant sunbeams wander,
As daylight falls off to sleep,
The stars arrive to ponder
Thy fields of infinite deep.

I come to thee for space.
In thee I seek my inner light.
In thee I found my place.
Thou art my love, O peace of night.

~ Daniel F Mitchell

 

Proudly presented to you by Garden of Poetry, growing food for the soul!

Roses Pink

Roses Pink

Roses Pink

Roses Pink

Roses pink are the sign of my morning,
Symbols of hope for the new-waking day,
Both a greeting of peace and dire warning,
That all things pure and precious pass away.
What is death if we know a day of life?
What is loss if we love but an hour?
All the heavy hurt of our mortal strife,
Redeemed by the blossoms of a flower!
How fragile are the petals of being!
How weakly clings the dew upon the leaves!
How fleeting is this sight I am seeing,
For soon this tender moment wilts and grieves!

The thorns and tendrils of impending death
Magnify the worth of each fragrant breath!

~ Daniel F Mitchell

A Poem Composed on the Slate of Never

A Poem Composed on the Slate of Never

Slate of Never

A Poem Composed on the Slate of Never

Let not my life be deemed a fleeting dream,
Fast dissipating into nevermore,
Adrift upon time’s everlasting stream,
Floating away to oblivion’s shore!

Let not my breath be aspiration vain,
As transient wind passing through the trees,
An inspiration without lasting gain,
A dying utterance, a wistful breeze!

Let me live each day as my final day,
Breathing each breath as though it were my last!
Let my thoughts in this precious present stay,
Reflecting this universe, deep and vast!

Let this one moment echo forever,
A poem composed on the slate of never!

~ Daniel F Mitchell

 

Proudly presented to you by Garden of Poetry, growing food for the soul!

Of Counting Sunbeams

Of Counting Sunbeams

Counting Sunbeams

Of Counting Sunbeams

I count the sunbeams of golden noon,
Sowing glory upon my outstretched hand –
My form of mud, of dust, of crumbling sand.
Perhaps I reap a swathe of harvest moon.

As distant fantasies of my childhood,
Upon the angel-winged breeze I ride,
United, as one with evil and good.
In the reflection of stars, I abide.

I distill all feeling into one breath,
Divinity upon the autumn air.
I justify the weight of looming death,
Abiding here, yet being everywhere.

I sing today the song of all I see.
I appraise the worth of my conception –
Basking in the effulgent mystery,
Of being a moment of perception.

With uplifted voice, today I refrain –
Should tomorrow’s chance never come again.

~ Daniel F Mitchell