Inspirational Poetry





 All is One, Co-Creating With The Creator

                                             Pat Cegan






I am pleased to announce the publication of the first of a series of books from Source of Inspiration. There are now more than 9,000 poems on the blog. which will be published as time and resources permit to preserve this wonderful body of work. The book is available in print format and all e-book formats either through Intent Publishing or Please consider purchasing a copy for yourself or loved ones. Truly these poems are from Source and will enrich your life and those with whom you share. All proceeds are being donated to a non-profit organization to be used for families in need. I have been a volunteer here in Brazil for fourteen years and appreciate any support you can give in the beautiful work we do here.

Link for Intent Publishing

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Feel free to download this complimentary book of poems from Source of Inspiration to enjoy or give it to others. Let me know if the link does not work correctly, please. Hugs, pat

Butterfly Beatitudes



- A Tiny Seed


I found a tiny seed
for what I do not know.
Shall I plant it
and see what grows?

Sandy soil, or clay
sun or shade
water sparingly or no?
Flower, tree, Jack in the Bean Sprout,
what are you, my little friend?

Seed of doubt
leaving me trembling in fear?
Seed of hate
making me see my brother
as my enemy?
Seed of unforgiveness
hardening my heart
filling a field with
weeds of darkness.

Maybe I should throw the seed away!
But where so that it does not grow?
What if it is a “good” seed,
and I cast away my only chance?

Seed of hope,
blooming flowers of possibilities
Seed of abundance,
filling my life with dreams realized
Seed of faith,
assuring me that my Creator
is always close to me.

I place the seed
between my palms
and ask, “who are you?
Do I dare plant you?”

My tiny seed responds,
“I am the seed of Love;
plant me in your heart.
I will grow into a mighty tree
reaching out and touching all,
leaving a seed of love with each.

One tiny seed
planted in your heart
can change the world.

- Bridge of No Return


What is our fascination with bridges
hanging suspended
by the wings of angels?
We wonder at their beauty and power.

If I cross this bridge,
what is on the other side?
We use bridge metaphors
with little thought,
“I will cross that bridge
when I get to it!”
Good advice…do not worry
about tomorrow.

“Don’t burn your bridges behind you.”
Seems like a wise saying;
sometimes it is.
But there comes a time
when we must burn a bridge.
We must decide irrevocably to change:
Our life, our self, our partner, our work…

Do you have the courage
to cross that bridge
knowing you will never be the same?
The bridge of no return
is calling you.
Step lightly onto this
Bridge of Promise.

Don´t look back
pillar of salt.
Don’t look down
where sharks flash toothy grins.
Walk forward with firm resolve,
Garden of Eden awaits you
across the bridge.

The Tree of Knowledge is no longer forbidden.
Stand tall
Connect the your silver cord
to the other side.
Walk with the knowing
that you can not return
nor will you ever want to!

- Faith


Is faith blind obedience?
I think not!
Do not tell me to have faith
when I do not understand
some dogma or
arbitrary rule.

Do not tell me that
it is wrong to question
what you declare “mysteries.”
A lifetime of “whys?”
silenced by vague
demands of faith.

I do not have faith
in empty promises
of leaders of churches, politics, and
crumbling social structures
built with lies of greed.

But I do have faith,
abundant faith, indeed!
Each morning sky
painted with pastel hues,
star spattered nights,
flowers turning their
faces to the sun
renews this faith
in my Creator,
who is ever by my side
filling me with Love and Light.

- Babies


Who can resist the charm of babies,
puppies, kitties, colts?
What is there about them
that causes even the hardest heart to soften?

Innocence, hope, the promise of a better future.
Guard these babies well;
never break their trust
or crush their spirit.
Let them open that memory
when, you, too, saw the world
with eyes of wonder;
become that sweet baby again.

- Laughter



Laughter which starts deep in the belly
bubbling up and out
sending forth abundant glee.
Tears flow in helpless mirth
as wave after wave
of unexpected laughter
transforms me
leaving me hick-upping
giggling like a delighted five year old
only to catch your eye
and dissolve again
in the healing energy of laughter.

I want only friends
with whom I can share
these magical moments when
we merge into the
richness of uninhibited laughter
dissolving all sorrows and barriers
leaving us smiling all day
at the memory of this precious moment.

- Mirrors


Mirror, mirror on the wall
surely you lie!
Who can resist a glimpse of “me?”
I am seldom happy with what I see
as I turn this way and that
searching for a better side.

Reflections are also found
in other people.
How easily we see their faults
when our own lie hidden from our eyes.
Do we not know that what we
do not like in others is
often what we need
to see in ourselves?

Mirror, mirror on the wall
show me as fairest of them all
full of love, patience, compassion,
in turn, may I reflect for each
their kindness and beauty that love
gives to those who open their hearts
to the Oneness of us all.

- War


War is not glorious.
There are no heroes.
There is only the insanity
of killing for greed and power.

Body parts lie scattered
on fields of death
hands that will never again caress
feet that can no longer walk in fields of corn
faces twisted in eternal agony
stench of fresh blood, bowels emptied.

I do not want to hear songs
which tell the glory and honor of war.
Give me my husband next to me
on a cold winter night.
Let him swing his daughter high in the air
and hear her squeals of delight.
His mother’s sorrow matches my own
as we see his chair forever empty
at our table laden with his favorite food.

Be gone with men marching
to the cadence of drums beating
flags flapping, voices chanting
lies of war.
A baby lies silent along side
her mother, dog, grandmother
shattered like the walls of their home,
blasted by errant bombs
and uncaring men.

I will not even write of women
who participate in war
denying their life-giving essence.
How can you participate in taking lives,
when you are created to give life?

No, you will never convince me
that bombing schools, homes, hope
leads to peace.
Democracy, you shout, freedom!
Can we be free with
blood on our hands
and men returned
with shattered lives?

Let the billions of dollars
Spent on war clean up the slaughter
of generations of greed.
Shout, “No more!” loud and clear.
Pray that never again will a bomb
blast a family’s dreams and hope
for peace on Earth.

Let the bells toll in a new year
that heralds the end of wars
and the beginning of an earth
of untold beauty, love and Oneness.
This is my prayer, my dream, my cry.
Join my voice and sing of love
in a world that honors life.

- Patience


What makes me impatient
unable to quietly wait
peaceful in the knowledge
that if I allow life
to unfold gently,
each moment is a rose
of breath-taking beauty
opening to it own inner rhythm.

We rush from one activity to another,
mostly unaware
of what we are doing
as we think about the next task
or worse, yesterday’s woes.
Frantic, I hurry, “I’m late! I’m late!”
joining the rat-ta-tat-tat
of other’s scurrying on city sidewalks,
or cars beeping and swerving.

But, thankfully, that was yesterday.
Today, the gift of age
makes my steps slower,
allowing me time to see
tiny mushrooms dotting gnarled roots
of standing tall Guardians,
the floresta eager to teach me
her secrets if only I pause to learn.

I sit quietly on a rock,
watching the sunlight
play on water cascading
on the stream that sings its way along
moss covered pebbles
my serenity rewarded
when a doe steps out
nose twitching, ears turning.
She takes tiny sips
watching me with honey colored eyes.
Drinking her fill,
she looks into my eyes
and passes her wisdom to me.
I nod my thanks
as she slips back
into the floresta.

Patience brings many gifts.
Each one must be opened slowly
savoring with a child’s anticipation
and an elder’s wisdom.

- Duality


Free will gives us choice
Path of Light or,
pursuit of the pleasures of Darkness.
Both paths lead us
back to our Creator.
Each of us must choose.
Darkness can not exist in Light.

Both paths have their lessons
Our Creator lets us explore,
knowing within the heart of each
lies the seed of Love
waiting for germination.

We must not judge another’s choice;
shadows define the Light,
all of us are One.
Can we say our Creator
was wrong to give us choice?
Would clones of Light be better?

Courtesy: Pat Cegan