Image by Fractal Art
The Holy One showers Beauty
declares a new moon, a Hibiscus closing, a purple sunset or a frightful tsunami,
a person dies, a baby is born
These things and everything else stand omnipotent
Such is nature – surprisingly awesome
Should we not gather to declare God’s Glory?
“The clearest sensation that a human being has when he experiences the holy is an overpowering and overwhelming sense of creatureliness. That is, when we are in the presence of God, we are humbled and become most aware of ourselves as creatures. This is the opposite of Satan’s original temptation, “You shall be as gods.”
Photograph by EcoSeasons
Poem by Gwendolyn Brooks
Abortions will not let you forget.
You remember the children you got that you did not get…
I have heard in the voices of the wind the voices of my dim killed children…
You were born, you had body, you died.
It is just that you never giggled or planned or cried.
Believe me, I loved you all.
Believe me, I knew you, though faintly, and I loved, I love you all.
…God forgives each mother’s grieving act…
Poem by J. Hinkle
“Happiness is an inside job that comes from living our lives to the fullest,
And enjoying all the little things around us.
Happiness is not money, nor job, nor house.
Happiness is when you are satisfied to be you when you like the face in the mirror.
Happiness is peace of mind.
…All of us are created to be angels of happiness…
Poem by Helen Steiner Rice
A Mother’s Love
A mother’s love is something that no one can explain,
It is made of deep devotion and of sacrifice and pain,
It is endless and unselfish and enduring come what may for nothing can destroy it
or take that love away…
A many splendoured miracle man cannot understand
And another wondrous evidence of God’s tender guiding hand.
…a mother’s love is easy with God’s touch…
This poem is dedicated to Christopher
Poem by Helen Steiner Rice
In thanksgiving, I say:
You cross my threshold
You confirm my worthiness
You keep me magical…thank you Lord
Christ sitting in the House of Mary and Martha
A Crumb by Rita A. Simmonds
There is nothing in this world more useless
than being a poet for Jesus
Who sits for hours awaiting worshippers
behind His golden door.
Some do come–
old ladies with squeaky-wheeled shopping carts
and clinking rosary beads,
young mothers with strollers
who kneel on marble
as their children sleep,
homeless men who rise from pews
raise their blackened palms
and praise Him out loud
for another new day.
And there’s me
with pen and empty page
sitting at the Master’s feet
waiting for a fallen crumb
that everyone in the world
…echoeing…my sentiments…Rita Simmons is a great poet!
Stairway to Heaven Painting by Electro saga
POEM – If Tears Could Build a Stairway
If tears could build a stairway, and memories a lane, I would walk right up to Heaven and bring you back again.
No farewell words were spoken, no time to say ‘Goodbye.’ You were gone before I knew it, and only God knows why.
My heart still aches with sadness, and secret tears still flow. What it meant to love you – no one can ever know.
But now I know you want me to mourn for you no more; to remember all the happy times life still has much in store.
Since you’ll never be forgotten, I pledge to you today – a hollowed place within my heart is where you’ll always stay.
…Miss you Mame Jane, you’re always in my heart…