Magical poet

23/05/2026

23/05/2026

THE POWER OF SILENCE

Silence is power, calm and deep,
A treasure wise souls always keep.
Not every battle needs your voice,
Sometimes peace is the better choice.

People will gossip, argue, complain,
Dragging others through dirt and pain.
But wisdom walks a quieter lane,
Avoiding drama, avoiding stain.

Learn to be still when tempers rise,
Not every rumour deserves replies.
The loudest noise often fades away,
But quiet minds grow strong each day.

Mind your business, guard your space,
Do not run in every race.
For those who pry and always peep,
Rarely harvest what they keep.

A peaceful heart sleeps well at night,
Far from envy, hate, and spite.
While busy tongues chase every sound,
Quiet souls stay safe and crowned.

So speak with care, and less than more,
Not every knock deserves your door.
For greatness blooms in calmness too,
When you mind your path and stay true.

06/05/2026

Clocks That Aren’t Yours

They will hold their watches to your pulse
and ask why your seconds wander
why your dawn arrives barefoot
while theirs rides in on gold.

But time was never a race track,
no painted lanes beneath your feet,
no gunshot cracking the sky
to summon you forward.

You are not late
you are unfolding.

Some lives bloom like sudden storms,
loud, electric, impossible to ignore.
Others rise like mist
quiet, patient, shaping mountains unseen.

Do not measure your becoming
by the noise of another’s arrival.
Their hour is not your mirror,
their clock does not speak your name.

What looks like delay
may be depth gathering breath.
What feels like stillness
may be roots learning the language of earth.

So let them run
let them sparkle, stumble, soar.
Your time is a different kind of fire,
one that knows when to burn.

And when it does,
it will not ask permission
from any borrowed clock.

05/04/2026

The tomb is empty!

From the garden's hush, where sorrow lay so deep,
And all the world in silent vigil seemed to sleep,
A stone was rolled away, a tomb stood cold and bare
But Life, eternal Life, had shattered death’s despair.

The morning trembled, wrapped in mist and gray,
As dawn began to gently brush the night away.
Then came a light no shadow could contain
A love stronger than agony, stronger than pain.

They came with spices, grieving, bent, and bowed,
Beneath a heavy, unforgiving cloud.
But angels spoke with voices clear and bright:
“Why seek the Living One among the dead of night?”

O, feel the pulse of wonder, sharp and sweet,
The trembling joy where hope and heartbeat meet!
The wounds still visible, yet shining with a grace
That time and tomb and terror could not erase.

He walked again where doubt and sorrow trod,
And every step proclaimed the love of God.
No more the sting, no more the bitter loss
He bore the cruelest weight upon the cross,
To break the chains that held the captive soul,
And make the broken, wounded spirit whole.

So let the earth awaken, let the darkness part
He lives, He reigns, in every beating heart.
The stone is rolled, the empty tomb stands free:
A promise for eternity… for you, for me.

03/04/2026

“On That Hill Called Love”

They led Him through dust and mockery,
A crown of thorns pressed deep into mercy,
Blood traced the path where silence cried,
And heaven watched as the Holy One died.

The weight of wood upon wounded skin,
Yet heavier still the weight of our sin,
Each step He took was pain defined,
But love… love was all on His mind.

They nailed His hands that once had healed,
Pierced the feet that to the broken kneeled,
The sky grew dark, the earth did shake,
As hope seemed lost for sorrow’s sake.

Voices rose in cruel delight,
“Save Yourself!” they mocked His plight,
Yet He stayed there, chose the cross,
Counting all their gain as loss.

His mother wept, her heart undone,
Watching the suffering of her Son,
Angels hushed, creation mourned,
As flesh was torn and spirit scorned.

Then through the pain, a whisper came,
A prayer that stills both guilt and shame:
“Father, forgive they know not what they do…”
Even in death, His love broke through.

It was not nails that held Him there,
But boundless love, beyond compare,
For every soul, for you, for me
He chose the cross… He chose to be.

And when He cried, “It is finished,”
The veil was torn, grace replenished,
The grave would soon lose all its claim,
For death itself would bow His name.

Oh, what a love on Calvary shown,
A King who died to claim His own,
In darkest hour, the light was born
Hope from pain, and joy from thorn.

29/03/2026

I met Jesus

I met him in the quiet,
not in the stained-glass light,
but in the ache of a winter branch
against a steel-gray sky.

He wore no robe of woven gold,
no halo, bright and grand.
He wore the face of the old man
who offered me his hand
when the bus was late and the rain came down
and I had no shelter near.
He wore the voice of the tired nurse,
whispering, “I am here.”

I met him in the laughter
that broke a heavy gloom,
in the shared and silent understanding
in a half-lit, dusty room.
I met him in the letting go,
the grace that ends the fight,
in the courage of the breaking heart
that chooses love, not spite.

I met him in the bread we broke,
the simple, daily feast,
not in a grand cathedral,
but in the very least.

And if you ask me where he dwells,
I’ll point you to the street,
to every act of kindness
that makes the bitter sweet.
For I met Jesus in the dust and grime,
in the human, fragile touch,
and found that God is not so far;
we don’t need to search that much.

26/03/2026

LET GO.

Let go of the pain,
the weight you’ve carried in your bones,
the ache that turned your heart to stone.
It does not make you strong to hold
what time has broken, cold and old.

Release the ghost of yesterday,
the words you couldn’t find to say,
the love that left without a trace,
the shadow on this tender place.

Let it drift like ash on air,
a burden you were never meant to bear.
For in the hollow where it lay,
the light begins to find its way.

Not as a scar, but as a seam
where hope is sown, where dreams may gleam.
Let go - not as defeat, but as the start
of mending what was torn apart.