Four Seasons
First snowfall this morning.
Ground covered in white.
Flowers have died.
Birds are in flight.
End cycle of life
Death turns into birth
Old becomes new
Renewing our earth
Seasons, like Jesus
Restoring the dead
The blood of the Lamb
And breaking of bread
My seasons, have changed.
I've lost my old ways
Pure white I now sit
From the One whom I praise
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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Love Of My Life
Today when I saw you.
It was like seeing you again,
For the first time.
As my love for you grows,
20 years from now,
I will look back at today,
And realize I loved you the least.
I would move a mountain for you.
I would climb to the heavens for you.
I would die for you.
Your life is worth 20 of mine.
I sometimes think of what the world would be like without you.
A vast, dark, empty space.
Lifeless.
Your voice makes my heart soft.
Your touch makes my heart pound.
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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Two Countries
Two countries, both wanting peace.
From a war, that raged for years.
Both countries wanting to be right.
Both countries they live in fear.
One country puts their weapons down,
Then the other it invades.
The surrendered country defends itself,
The hope for peace it fades.
Both countries, still, they want a truce,
Yet the fight, it rages on.
Neither willing to call it quits.
Until all hope is gone.
One day they see a little child,
True victim of the war.
His bruised and battered little body,
Lay wounded on the floor.
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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Progress
If life was supposed to be easy,
And things happened by request.
Would you take everything fore granted?
And never try your best?
Everyone needs some failures,
And success, is there to earn.
If everything is handed to us,
How are we supposed to learn?
Mistakes they turn to wisdom,
And the wisdom we pass on.
To our children and their children,
After we are gone.
They will learn from our mistakes,
And then they'll make their own.
They'll learn through all that they've done wrong,
And see how much they've grown.
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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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My Prayer
If Your love is enough,
Then why do I seek?
The love of another.
My heart is so weak.
Please give it some strength.
Please fix my heart's hole.
My life it is spinning.
Out of control.
I dropped to my knees
Should I do it again?
Please make the pain stop.
Please make the pain end.
Please fill me and hold me
I need you so much.
I'm craving your presence.
I'm craving her touch.
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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Hypnotized
Lies, hypnotized.
No room for love.
In a world of despise.
Mirror, Mirror.
Meet your maker.
Your destination.
The undertaker.
What you believe.
How you are deceived.
Dishing back out,
All you’ve received.
Buy the lie,
You’ll surely die.
The truth is clear.
But you will not try.
He’s reaching out.
You’re full of doubt.
Your feeling is,
You’ve been cast out.
It’s far from true.
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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Insignificantly Significant
Millions of particles,
Making up my body.
Millions of bodies,
Making up a world.
Millions of worlds,
Making up a universe.
Removed from this,
I feel alone.
Yet, I am a piece of the puzzle.
A part of a bigger picture.
Insignificantly significant.
One infected cell spreading.
Affecting the body,
Eventually, killing the host.
One infected host spreading.
Eventually killing the world.
One cell at a time,
One person at a time.
But in order to heal the world,
The host must heal first.
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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Insight
My internal perimeter,
Are my external surroundings.
For if what is inside is beauty.
Then what is outside is also beauty.
If what is inside is darkness.
Then what is outside is also darkness.
The sunshine will warm your body.
Like a kind word will warm your soul.
Those that know not of true love.
Are blinded by the ways of the world.
Those that become true love.
Have vision of life eternal.
What is felt, so often is never seen.
What is seen, is almost always felt.
The eyes are the gateway to the soul.
It offers vision and insight.
For the spirit lies within.
It is only once you have gone within,
That you will never have to go without again.
These words are the promise.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Vine of Life
Substance is not divinity.
It is a creation of divinity.
My substance is my creation.
Is it substantially good?
Is it substantially evil?
The mind creates a bitter fruit.
Bitter to the taste,
Bitter to the eyes,
Bitter to the heart.
The spirit creates a sweet fruit.
Sweet to the taste,
Sweet to the eyes,
Sweet to the heart.
The vine is the connection to the fruit.
Our connection to the source of life.
Is life mind or spirit?
What is my calling or what is calling me?
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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Hands of Time
Time is my drug, my addiction.
Tick toc, tick toc, tick toc.
I am running out, I panic!
I steal some from another.
Not knowing how much they have,
But still trying to add to my own lot.
There is never enough.
Always wanting more.
Waste mine, utilize another's.
Yet mine is more valuable?
At least that's what I think.
But really, I don't think.
I am just another thief.
Until it is another that steals mine from me.
I then realize the value of the currency.
If I share it, it cannot be stolen from me.
My investment grows.
As I invest mine in another,
Many begin to invest in me.
For now, it is no longer an addiction.
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poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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