The Crystal Lady

The Poet's Corner

Poems of Inspiration and Religious themes


By Joan Estelle High

Religions are partitions that separate one man from another.
But spirituality is the glue that binds all men as brothers.
Once we learn the truth  that there is not but one God above.
Don't matter what we call
God's name, He is a God of Love.

He would gather us beneath his wings like a mother hen.
He who is our father, our creator, and hopefully our friend.
Sends His words to mankind both to wise men and to fools.
Like little facets of a diamond, or like some precious jewels.

Oh, to lay beneath a starry sky, or on a beaches golden strand.
To feel the Earth beneath you move as you melt into the land.
To hear the songs the planets sign, be a cloud or a bird on wing.
As you feel self becoming one with each and every living thing.

For at the time
the Lord God created us, like a potter with a bowl.
He then blew His
own  breath into us and we became a living soul.
So God has placed in each of us, a preciou
s bit of that divine spark.
w every thing that lives on Earth has within this common mark.
So let true spirituality reign, may it always be our guiding light.
Religion points the way but spirituality gets us through the night.
Maybe we should put aside the doctrines made by the hand of man.
Then find the path to eternal truth that  leads us to the promise land.

Escaping The Wheel
by Joan Estelle High
© Jan.2003

It is not always in casting of  Horoscopes,
Attending sťances or conjuring up the past.
The secret lies in prayer and  meditation,
Today is from where your future is cast.

Be not side tracked by the psychic or occult.
Pray many times each day, that is what it'll take.
Search deep within as you must  find your  fault.
Then take some time to pray, think and meditate.

Prayerfully consider , all you will need to do.
First  appreciate just what your life is worth
You must begin the changes  inside of you.
Before you can  hope to change the  Earth.

You are the dot in the middle of the circle.
The size of your circle depends on you.
You alone can expand the circle's lines
It  will grow from all the things you do.

If you desire other people to be a part.
You must draw them in before you start.
It is up to you to set your circle's size.
It is from your mind the dimensions lies.

Just as a circle is but a line with no end.
Love first yourself and then love your friend.
Next you will expand until you will soon find.
Your circle of love encloses most of mankind.

When you love all who pass under the rod.
Then you are free my friend , to love God.

I Am Not Afraid Of Satan
by Joan Estelle High 
© May 2003 

I'm not afraid of Satan when he goes about , a roaring lion of  night.
I am much more afraid of Satan when he dresses  in a robe of  white.
The pictures of him horned and  dressed in red are not exactly right.
Satan once walked with God , until he was banished from the light.

Then this former Angel and his henchmen became a fallen star.
Earth became their domain and here is where they now all are.
They are now free to roam about,  until Jesus comes to claim.
That which was His in the beginning and soon will be His again.

Then sorry old Satan will be bound a thousand years or more.
This once lovely earth will become a paradise, like it was before.
There will be a new Earth and Heaven, as the old will pass away.
And the morning shall break in eternity as a new and brighter day.

 Famines will not happen  and disease will reign no more.
Everyone will have their home  and they will outlaw war.
The wickedness in high places will become a thing long  past.
Earth will have resources plenty and  peace will come at last.

This Earth will be able to supply every thing we ever need.
When supply and demand is not ruled by man's greed.

The Devilís Spawn.
By Joan Estelle High

You know, it is a perilous time we live in today.
Violence seems about to shake the foundation of the earth.
Sinful and ignorance men seem to hold good people at bay
Stupid angry people stamp their feet and rant and curse.
As they become the Boggy man of the world.

They profess that they are outraged at some harmless cartoon.
Which only mirror back the black feet of their souls
It doesnít make their leader a laughing stock
But only shows them as a pack of goons.
Just some petty bullies on the block

In reality it is they, who have no respect for their God.
It is they that bring shame upon the name of those they call their own.
Their behavior is an excuse for venting their personal anger
If not at God or His creations, but at themselves and their own limitations
The only thing they know how to do is to kill

Was it a genetic mutation that has watered down
the intelligence of a respected ancient people who once were great.
Where many wonders of the ancient world once were found.
From world class libraries and pyramids from an ancient date.
What happened to this people where is the noble blood line of old.

These souls who never quite made it in previous lives.
Were giving the one last chance again to learn.
God wanted to make sure they had ever opportunity
before he throws these flawed models in to the pit to burn
Now a lot of people say "Burn Baby Burn"

Even a mighty God makes mistakes some times
As a potter He sometimes has to destroy His works of clay.
The angry people know that their time is very short.
Before the ending of this chapter of Godís Eternal play.
They are being written out of the story even as we talk.

Some times God will try to rescue some of them,
From the garbage heap of ignorance and shame.
He will see a divine spark that is not extinguished yet,
and He will give them one more chance to play the game.
But His patience is running short.

He will weigh the slowness of their brain, the difficulty of their lot.
Against the goodness in their heart, and if their light will dawn.
God doesnít want any body to perish, but some times He has to choose
between the ones that love and serve Him and the Devilís spawn
Some times He cuts his loses and then He just moves on.

If God Were a Mother
by Joan Estelle High
©May 2003

Now who decides when a life is still fresh and new.
What this life can or can not or just will not do?
What gives one lucky soul days of plenty and ease.
While for another it is bedbugs, roaches and fleas.

Why for some folks a big house and a Cadillac car.
For others it is cold beans from an old Mason jar.
He gets a great body, it is both rugged and strong.
Then the next poor fellow has his feet put on wrong.

That pretty lady sits sadly at home, all day, alone.
She is grieving for the children that she never had.
While only next door the neighbors ten lively kids,
Are driving their poor mother, stark raving mad.

It does seem funny to me and I am not that bright.
That God who hung up the stars and created the night.
He created life out of matter, made us all from scratch.
He taught the birds how to fly, and the chickens to hatch.

He could have done a  much better job at dividing thing out.
Nobody should be so very  poor nor have wealth to flout. 
Any mother with kids could show him Him how it's done.
Don't give all to one kid and leave the others with none.

So maybe if God were a mother, it would be better.
Things would get divided right down to the letter.
Sickness and rotten  poverty would no longer exist.
And  mother would wipe all tears with a kiss.
If God were a mother.

A Prayer
by Joan Estelle High

 Thou God who made the world.
Create in me a new body
Renewed in strength, vigorous and sound.
Remove from this body any blemish
That would keep it from being the perfect body.
Cast the beam from my eyes that I may be healed now.
I know there is no disease, no illness, no blemish.
That you can not set straight.
To limit God is an error of my mind.

Thou God who made the world.
Create in me a new mind.
Renewed in strength, vigorous and sound.
Remove from my mind all sin and stain.
Make my mind more like the mind of Christ.

Thou God who made the world
Call my soul to Thee
Let me remember how it was in the Garden.
Where you walked with me in the cool of the day.
Renew my strength, give me support to go on.
As I will reach ever upward to my heavenly home.
Let me find at last the path that leads me back to Thee.

City of God
By Joan Estelle High
© January 2003

City of God, Beautiful Zion
City of Hope, Charity and Love.

Beautiful City, Heavenly City.
New Jerusalem from heaven above.

City of God, of Jesus our King.
City of Gold with streets of gold.
Home of our Fathers as prophets told.

Angels ascending, their glory around.
Saints without number, stroll through the town.

Everywhere joy and glad hearted laughter.
Peace and perfection forever after.

We of God's kingdom have come to our own.
We walked with faith and He brought us home.
We walked with faith and He brought us home.

Song playing is " All Heaven Declares"

Back To The Poet's Corner

free hit counters