ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel
  • »
  • Books, Literature, and Writing

My Poems - Between the Pain and God

Updated on March 8, 2017
Maria Dorland profile image

MariaInes is a freelancer and artist who writes about social matters from different perspectives.

At the Beginning

Let’s imagine those first men all over the world,

Seeing the skies from Asia, Africa, Europe, America, and Oceania

Let’s imagine them in the dark and cold nights

Wishing for having some of that light

Light that shines from heavens, from the sun, from the moon

From the starts.

They had seen that kind of light that comes from the sky

The lighting and the bolt hit the earth

The sun also burnt plains and grass

They wish that they also could have some.

They tried then to hit stone against stone,

They kept searching for the answer

Until that they when their wish was granted

And the first form of artificial light was created,

Humans discovered fire!

Maria Dorland

The Silence is Full of Light

It is now moment for silence

The birds ceased their song

The sounds became strangers

They became kind of liquid

Kind of dreams of another land.

The path also changed

It turned more arduous to climb

It turned kind of plastic

Kind of difficult to walk.

The message was given

The words grew wings

and flew all around us.

But now the moment of silence

Has arrived.

Now the message will bear fruit

Not all the seeds

Not all of them will, though

Some seeds will become

Ghosts of a lie

Breath of those experts in deceiving.

Will become material of laughter and

mockery, as His Kingship was,

bearing the humiliation of the crown of thorns.

My heart fears the darkness

It cannot see clearly after the clash but

There is not fear in the silence

There is not because the silence

Is full of Light.

Maria Dorland


Oh Lord, I come to you

In form of poetry

I come to talk to you

Because I do not

talk to her anymore.

Oh Lord, you know my soul

You know every corner of it

You made me, you loved me,

And you still do.

You keep me Lord, but today

I am wearing all these masks

But I did not craft them

Nor put them on my face

They come with many labels

Some very heavy to carry

with my bodyweight

I call them

Excuses to love not.

Oh Lord, today

I have been sent to you

As if you were a dungeon

As if you were my punishment.

As if you were my midnight

As if your power and might are unknown.

Oh Lord, I was coming anyway

Because you are the only way,

and I do not talk anymore

To that woman

called Solitude.

Maria Dorland

This Morning

This morning, oh Lord, I come with my prayer

But the storm in my chest

The clouds in my mind

The shattered pieces in my stomach

Do not allow me to speak.

This morning, Oh Lord, I come with my heart

Full of love for You

But the pain is still burning in the skin

And the aggression of a devil I do not really know

Comes and goes inside and outside the streets,

the houses, the church, the markets

comes and goes with words, gestures,

thoughts and deception,

with anger and anguish

with thirst and hunger.

This morning, Oh Lord, you know everything

You know the landscape of my soul

You know that the words I will pronounce

Will not be enough to pray

That is why the only way I have today for

Praying are these tears running down my face

Peaceful tears, crystal tears, salty tears

They say it all, they say thanks, they say forgive me,

They say be with me, be with them

They want to say be with us

They say protect me

They want to say forgive them

They say I love You

They dry out in my lips that start to smile

As a rainbow of many beautiful colors

That shines from the center of my heart

by the Grace of your Light that abounds for all of

those who confess the pain in their hearts to You.

Maria Dorland

The Windows

The sadness invaded the notes and

The piano only could cry that melody,

The rain was pouring outside

The windows were the eyes that

Could not be open to avoid the storm

To come inside like tears that got lost

Inside our hearts, our souls, our minds.

Our hands were washed clean

The angels were also singing that song

And warming, warming

The light was changing

And we were praising the Lord, Our Lord

And the sadness became something else

I cannot explain with words

The piano could explain but it did not

We opened our eyes and the tears were inside

No, they could not stop

But they were tears of joy

It was Himself, was His spirit

Healing us, reminding us that this pain

Was already taken by Him in the cross

Our hands were washed clean

And our eyes opened once more again.

Maria Dorland

© 2017 MariaInes


    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • Maria Dorland profile image

      MariaInes 10 months ago from Johannesburg

      Thank you Ms. Dora :-)

    • MsDora profile image

      Dora Weithers 10 months ago from The Caribbean

      I like the prayers especially. I think that God is delighted when we write down our prayers. He may even admire them written in poetry. The readers get to pray along and say "Amen."