Travel and Verse

stories of travel, medical missions, and more

Tag: Poetry (Page 3 of 9)

sit with me

September 28, 2020 / / 0 Comments

Sit with me,

            Autumn is here

The trees tell stories old and dear

With aged-brown leaves quaking, shaking

And silenced souls solemnly listening

Sit with me,

            And quietly hear

The rustling tall grass and the ghostly deer

Catch the bouquet of yesterday’s flowers

As the sun sets now in the waning hours

Sit with me,

            I say!

For winter shall grasp us any day

This place we so love will be burdened with snow

And we shall sit inside by the fire’s warm glow

Sit with me,

            God is nigh

We shall feel His love as He smiles on high

A calling bird haunts as acorns fall from trees

God speaks through silence and crunching leaves

Sit with me,

            Autumn is here.

anthony forrest

Refuge and Deluge

September 21, 2020 / / 0 Comments

Refuge

Deluge

Mighty quiet rest

Impart

on my heart

your solemn Holy best

Refuge

Deluge

Soul washed clean

Restore

dear Lord

my spirit’s tearing seams

Refuge

Deluge

God, you are always near

Heal this

heart of steel

and take away my fear

 

anthony forrest

Traces of You

August 10, 2020 / / 0 Comments

Small encouragement from yours truly:

Though travel is currently limited, the lessons we learn along the way still exist. As soon as you can, get out there and seek to learn more about other cultures and people. And if physically going is out of the question, travel through a good book. Read an author or title outside of your comfort zone. Find the things that help you discover the hidden traces of yourself under the rubble of the day-to-day monotony.

Speech over. You may go about your business.

anthony forrest

Day Change

July 13, 2020 / / 0 Comments

Eastern sky on fire

Barely a new day

Sun getting higher, nigher

The horizon begins to fray

Into colors dark, then light

change to bright

Sleep shuffles away

anthony forrest

What Place is This?

June 22, 2020 / / 0 Comments

What place is this,

so familiar to me;

with gentle blue lakeshores

and White Pine trees?

 

What place is this in

which, during Spring,

warm daylights fade away,

into cool nights serene?

 

What place is this,

and with whom share I

these nights

by firelights?

She sits nearby.

 

What place is this,

which became home,

after childhood years

of simply unknown?

 

What place is this

(when the days turn cold),

where I wish the snow and ice

were silver sheets and chunks of gold?

 

What place is this;

Oh, strange land of lakes?

I hear your Loons.

I see the waves break.

 

What place is this?

I shall not ask again.

For these words answer easily

of this Land who is also friend.

 

anthony forrest

 

Roots

June 8, 2020 / / 0 Comments

They spread across time

Ever slowly they found a home

Digging deep into the forest floor

They nestled into the pine-needle loam

 

Then the growing halted

there in the woods

for here lay a stony foe

and how to find a way through this rock?

These roots did not know

 

But time passes on and growth will never stop

So, with eager embrace

of this hardened fiend

The roots grew atop the rock

anthony forrest

Spring Renewal

May 25, 2020 / / 0 Comments

Walking upon trail, I stop in the heart of the trees

Snowy-white new-growth

of plum blossom peddles

—a fragrance I love—is carried to me on a breeze

 

How could I say these woods are silent?

For all around me I hear of creatures

And branches

Busy in noise-making

Though they try—in vain—to hide it

 

I linger here

 

as Frost would say, with distance more, and promises too

But stop, I must,

and breathe in these woods

For in the stopping I am renewed

 

anthony forrest

The God of Still Whispers

May 4, 2020 / / 0 Comments

I rise on a new day, in the silence of now,

seeking a whisper of wind through the trees.

Then stopping to pray, in the silence of now,

and wait for that small, quiet voice to find me.

Suddenly—my heart of clay (which crumbles now)

is soothed by the God of still whispers and peace.

anthony forrest

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