birth

My Poem ‘The Ten Thousand’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Every birth is a miracle…
every child is an angel…
every baby is beautiful…
every newborn is wonderful,
and it is every parents responsibility
to provide and to give without question
the love and the support that their children
need more than anything else in the entire world.

Every child is born to the parents
whom they are born to for a reason…
some parents don’t even plan to be parents –
however, I am sure that not even
Mary and Joseph knew how to be the best parents
to the young Jesus,
but they did the best that they could,
and it is not every day
that you are chosen to be
the adoptive parents of God’s son
through immaculate conception.

In my opinion, every parent of every child
is the beginning, but not the end…
in my opinion, the best parents
care so much for their children
and their well-being,
and they show their love for their children naturally –
while others try too-hard
and in the end they have to pretend.

We know from the Bible
where Jesus was born and to whom…
we know where Jesus died
and where he rose to heaven…
we know that Jesus died
for each and every one of us,
but no-one could ever know
what exactly Jesus thought about
why he was on Earth when he was a child –
however, when he saw the signs
of what was about to come
and what he had to do,
I am sure that he knew…
we know that Jesus was divine,
but he too was mortal
and could not have left this life
in any other way than like a human.

Some couples pray for the gift of a child…
some people become parents naturally
and biologically, and some are chosen
to be the guardians and the protectors
of a child by the hand of destiny and fate…
some couples’ journey to parenthood
can be long and hard,
but unbelievably worth-while…
some people become a parent early
and some become parents late…
some couples only choose their child’s name
after they have been born,
while some have had the same names picked out
for months before they even knew the sex of their baby…
some parents watch their children grow
and become amazing individuals
of whom they could not be more proud…
some couples know what it means
to have been born into a one-of-a-kind family…
some parents unfortunately out-live their children
and even have to watch as their child
breathes their last breath –
and it is to them that Angels come
to help them through the heart-break that they feel,
because to the ears of the divine
the sound of even a single falling tear of a parent
is as loud as that of ten thousand.

Advertisement

My Poem ‘The Mix Sense’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

When you can’t see, you hear;
when you can’t hear, you feel;
when you can’t feel,
you can say everything
with a look and a tear;
when you can’t cry
and you cannot express,
the only thing that you can do
to bring you back to life
is to strip yourself down to your soul
and let all of you be revealed.

There are times to be modest,
and there are times to be wild;
there are times to revitalize and refresh,
and there are times to look in the mirror
and like the look of your own style;
there are times to breath,
and there are times to believe;
there are times to take an intermission;
there are times to feel absolutely wonderful,
as if you were an infinitely floating leaf.

Everybody has a sixth sense;
in all the universe,
there may be an infinite number
of incredible, indescribable,
and breathtaking senses
that we cannot yet give a first-hand account of;
anybody who can look out, see, watch,
and who can take notice of the differences
that they see happening all around them,
is using a power that unifies
every one of their senses
into a single sense – a sixth sense;
that is something to realize,
and to take note of,
but to not think too much about,
which you should imbue from
as much as you can
and feel it turn a page in the book of your mind,
as if you were experiencing
a moment of falling in love.

To me, love is a sense all on its own
which has infinite depths, layers,
and intensity to it
that you can’t ever remake
or attempt to clone;
at the core of the universe –
where all life, energy, light, time,
and meaning was born, will die,
and will come back to life, ad aeternum –
there is a constantly beating heart
sending out waves of change
throughout a multitude of dimensions of reality,
and there are some people who can sense
and feel these waves that echo
faster than the speed of light
and they can feel the changes
that take place all-around
and within themselves,
as they are made to see
what is right there
through a slightly obscured lens;
there are people who can stop time
and live an entire lifetime in a second in their mind,
however they sometimes miss the most important things
about life that make everything make sense.
All that is meant to be as-one
are what rise from the ocean of life
and stand out like a beautiful island
of infinite possibility –
which are like nothing else that you may see,
hear, taste, sense, touch anywhere else
in life’s incredible and infinite mix.

My Poem ‘Neo’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A new day;
a bright blue new sky;
a new breath of fresh air;
a new moment to take in
the exquisiteness of a familiar place;
a bright light;
a time to let the world slow down,
as if you don’t have a care,
and be re-energized
and feel phenomenal
at all the emotions that you go through
when you feel a gust of wind
blow through your hair.

Life is constantly rejuvenating itself;
people are always looking to better themselves;
life is growing; people are becoming;
life is mystifying; people are fascinating.

New music, new art,
new motivations, new starts,
new meals, new deals,
new mirrors, new reflections;
new journeys, new travels,
new energy, new directions;
new expectations, new idols,
new ideas, new styles,
new happy tears.

New life is abundant on Earth every minute,
just as it is every second in the big wide universe;
there is more happening,
and more parts moving into place,
than anyone could ever comprehend;
the unspoken truth is that
for all the grains of sand on a beach,
and all the stars of the night sky,
we know nothing about how everything truly works –
even a theory that could combine
biology, physics, chemistry, and spirituality
could only ever scratch the surface
of the great meaning of the life, the death,
and the rebirth that is happening:
stars and life are being born,
dying, and coming back to life
in new, wonderful and spectacular forms –
some of which are beyond imagining.

New inspiration, new enthusiasm,
new sights, new vision;
the world made anew because of you,
because of life’s constant state
of reconfiguration, disposition,
and re-fusion.
Somethings will new change,
and some things always do;
some people age before their time,
and some people cannot believe
how fast the days and the years
of their life have flew.

Every new day is a new page;
as the world turns,
life and people from any point of view
can see and be given insights of the universe
that will never be old –
because the universe is constantly
remaking itself every second…
just like new.

My Poem ‘Numbers’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Numbers surround us;
numbers connect us;
numbers help us remember things –
from the home where we live,
to the age that we are;
numbers define some people;
numbers are important to some people;
numbers are how some people
judge whether someone has something or nothing;
numbers have grown in importance and in prominence
since there invention –
from the moment that somebody started declaring
that one added to one is two,
and that the greater the number of something you have the better,
the more power you have,
and with your numbers you can do anything.

Numbers are more important to our daily lives than we realize;
certain numbers are more significant to us than others;
numbers are all that some people see in and with their eyes;
certain numbers: dates, times, addresses, “lucky numbers”,
can make people feel better;
numbers are our key to places, to our finances;
numbers can also be a sign of understanding and knowledge;
numbers are how we know the worth of something,
according to their prices;
numbers can be a way to encourage.

Numbers are fearsome, numbers are cruel,
numbers are tiresome, some numbers: not cool.
Numbers are stressful,
send you wild with rage;
numbers are frightening,
dictating your age.
Numbers keep you up revising,
deep into the night;
numbers make you shed a tear,
but persist and they’ll cause you delight.

Numbers are everywhere you look,
and sometimes they are more populous than words;
some numbers are constantly changing;
some numbers always remain the same;
numbers exist in their own, and they connect,
every kind of world;
numbers connect lots of things:
from follow counts on websites,
to balances in bank accounts;
from pin numbers, to lottery numbers;
from years of birth,
to the number that we see of a particular bird.
Everybody in the world secretly
has an inbuilt obsession with numbers.

With thanks to Katie Hewer for the third verse! 😉

My Poem ‘Star Stuff’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

As the stars of the dark fade,
and the most important star in our lives rises;
as the sky’s light slowly and silently
becomes golden, beautiful, and a gorgeous masterpiece
that has been newly-made –
there is no sound, but the birds singing in their nests
and flying in the sky, and an air of calm,
and a sense of content happiness,
that to the many who are awake and taking in the same moment,
bring joy and smiles to their faces.

Our sun is like an old friend that we hear from every day;
our sun is like a guardian that wants to energize us,
and protect us, but also wants us to run with it,
and be free under its gaze and glare,
to get out there and play;
our sun makes life possible everywhere on Earth;
our sun welcomes every child on our planet,
and has done so, and will continue to,
and be the light that every baby, boy, girl,
adult of all ages, races towards,
as they did at the moment of their birth.

The sun beats within all of our hearts,
a piece of our star in our soul
is what intensifies our emotions;
when we all feel love and longing,
it is the living core of the sun
connecting to us and speaking to us,
and making us feel like it always does;
the sun is a fiery sphere that makes everything clear,
that is so close and yet so far –
but still keeps that world blessed, warm,
illuminated, and in motion.

We are all a beautiful, intricate, constellation,
and our thoughts and memories are a galaxy of moments
of light that make us who we are;
our story began not just at the moment we arrived in the world,
bu when the universe itself came into being
and exploded spectacularly into life,
and every day we all carry within us
something that was there, and lives on,
from the beginning of everything,
and each one of us is made up of and are,
and will continue to be,
the spark of rebirth and the stuff of stars.

image

My Poem ‘Human Condition’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Our existence can seem
like a raindrop on the infinite ocean of time;
our voice can sometimes seem
muted by a barrier of silence;
our life can sometimes feel
like we are standing behind an impassable line;
the universe can sometimes feel,
when you think about it,
too big to ever understand and too miraculous
and wonderful to just be seen and lived only once.

Birth and death are inextricably-linked;
life returns even to the scorched Earth
and the black ash of the remnants of a forest fire;
things can begin and end in a blink;
the universe’s ultimate power
is that it will go on and on,
and keep making and creating,
attracting and electrifying,
and being the source and the reason
that everything must transpire.

There are some people who believe
that humanity is the only intelligent life
in the entirety of the Milky Way galaxy,
and perhaps even the entire universe;
there are some people who believe
that after death follows rebirth;
there are some people who honour and worship
an idea and a way of life
that has been practiced for centuries;
there are some people who have claimed
to have seen things, and who claim to know things,
and have been deemed mad or crazy;
there are some people who believe
there is a definitive date for the end of the world;
there are some people who are capable of anything
in response to a single word.

Humanity is a singular, special, wonderful,
fascinating, and complex creation of life-
but in my opinion, it is not, will never be,
and has never been the most intelligent life,
nor the only life in the galaxy;
humanity has described itself in many ways,
and has believed itself to be many things
since we became free-thinking, and self-aware:
in stories, in legends, in monuments,
in countries, and in all languages,
in the form of music, art, and poetry;
and even though we like to think we have considered
and thought of every possibility of existence
there could ever possibly be,
there are dimensions of understanding
we all choose not to consider-
because they are too endless for us to dare.

Philosophers consider the who, the what, and the why;
doctors are the healers of our bodies and minds;
artists are the interpreters and magicians,
and the performers of the colours of the human soul;
astronomers are the watchers and observers
of the past, the present, and the future;
astronauts are the personification of freedom,
and boundless adventure, and a dream made real
that a man or a woman, without gravity, can fly;
a generous heart of someone special
is an example of the best of human-kind;
our wonder and awe at the sight of a sunset
is something truly magical;
our combined knowledge and constant ingenuity
is always going to be the most powerful,
intelligent, and interconnected computer.

We are all on a secret mission:
we all must do the best we can,
consider every possibility,
act on impulse,
love, laugh, see,
live every day with a dream and with hope,
and you will be among the brightest stars
of the human constellation,
and the perpetual life-force
of the Human Condition.