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When Your Hands Are Empty #poemofhope #faithpoetry #spokenwordpoetry

There will be a season when you have done all you know to do and still, nothing. No answer at the door. No sudden change. No sign in the sky telling you that tomorrow will be kinder. Just you, your unanswered prayer, and the strange silence that makes you question whether God is still listening. He is. Do not mistake silence for absence. Some of God's deepest work happens without making a sound. Roots grow in darkness. Healing happens beneath skin. Morning begins long before the window knows there is light. And somewhere beyond what you can see, your life is being moved by hands you cannot follow. So do not abandon your faith because you cannot trace God's footsteps. You were never promised a clear view. You were given enough light for the next step. Take it. Even if your knees shake. Even if your heart has questions your mouth is afraid to ask. Take it. Faith is not a life without uncertainty. It is waking up with uncertainty beside you and refusing to let it choose your direc...
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Colours of Life #naturepoetry #inspirationalpoetry #poem

Life is not one colour,
It is a wandering spectrum,
spilled across the canvas of breath.
Crimson of courage,
Indigo of doubt,
golden streaks of fleeting joy
caught between storm-grey hours.

Let the wind speak.
Do not curse its restless hands
when it tangles your certainty.
The wind is a tutor without a classroom.
It bends the tallest trees
yet teaches them how not to break.
Stand in its language.
Sway, but remain rooted.

When the sea grows furious,
hurling its white-frothed anger
against unyielding stone,
remember,
Its rage is only a chapter.
Beneath the roaring surface
lives a quiet blue pulse,
a patience older than storms.
So too within you:
Tempests may rise,
but calmness is never erased, 
only waiting for its turn.

The sun does not argue with the dusk.
It withdraws in amber dignity,
trusting return.
And the moon, silver and contemplative,
does not compete with daylight.
It glows in borrowed brilliance,
teaching that even reflected light
can guide the lost.

Mountains endure centuries of pressure,
yet remain unmoved in their resolve.
Rivers surrender their shape
to carve their destiny.
One stands firm.
The other yields,
Both arrive where they are meant to be.

Nature does not hurry its becoming.
Seeds split in darkness
before they ever taste the sky.
So when your days feel buried,
remember the soil is not your grave,
It is your preparation.

Life paints in contrasts:
thunder and hush,
shadow and blaze,
fall and bloom.
Learn its palette.
Let the wind refine you,
let the sea remind you,
Let the earth steady you.

For you are not separate
from the colours of this world.
You are one of them,
changing with the light,
deepening with the storm,
and always, always
capable of calm.


© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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