Category Archives: Sunday poems
His goodness is never one whit diminished
In the matter of God’s goodness we have got to be irrational. This is the way it is, with love, for instance, and with any other deep down, visceral persuasion. We go beyond reason, we do not trust appearances. All surface indications to the contrary we have got to believe that God is good, unfailingly …
The mystery of Mary
The Mystery of Mary She is our Mother But she is also our daughter. A little girl and the Queen of Heaven. The Queen of the Angels– and yet she is still a little girl! Remember this! Georges Bernanos
Small things
Small Things Anna Kamieńska It usually starts taking shape from one word reveals itself in one smile sometimes in the blue glint of eyeglasses in a trampled daisy in a splash of light on a path in quivering carrot leaves in a bunch of parsley It comes from laundry hung on a balcony from hands …
Those thorns on Thy brow . . .
My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine; For Thee all the follies of sin I resign. My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou; If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now. I love Thee because Thou has first loved me, And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree. I love Thee for …
Brier
Brier (Good Friday) Because, dear Christ, your tender, wounded arm Bends back the brier that edges life’s long way, That no hurt comes to heart, to soul no harm, I do not feel the thorns so much to-day. Because I never knew your care to tire, Your hand to weary guiding me aright, Because you …
“Come Sunday”
Come Sunday Lord, dear Lord of love, God Almighty, God above, Please look down and see my people through. I believe that God put sun and moon up in the sky. I don’t mind the gray skies ’cause they’re just clouds passing by. He’ll give peace and comfort to every troubled mind, Come Sunday, oh …
Thy loving heart
Jesus, I am resting, resting In the joy of what Thou art. I am finding out the greatness Of thy loving heart. Thou hast bid me gaze upon Thee, And Thy beauty fills my soul, For by Thy transforming power, Thou hast made me whole. O, how great Thy loving kindness, Vaster, broader than the …
Hold me there
Lift my eyes to Yours, my heart to Yours, and hold me there. I would not stray from You willingly, yet weakness diverts my gaze too often. Be consoled, my soul. His heart’s gaze never strays. His hold never weakens. December 14, 1999
Steep me in your stillness
Steep me in your stillness, Lord Steep me in Your stillness, Lord. Oh, calm my restless soul. Hush my spirit, and put Your finger on my lips. Say to my stormy being, “Quiet, be still.” Then hold me close and let me rest my head against Your breast. July 19, 1999
Cold
A Sunday-poem by Mother Mary Francis: Cold This is the season of snows, when the sky, all in pieces, is falling, and bells from invisible towers are soundlessly tolling. Over the carpeted earth, footsteps are coming and going, leaving no tracks on a land where winter is snowing. Where are they hanging, the bells? Whose are the feet …
