Your Favorite Poems

[emmaberry101]

[size=4]10 bucks to anyone who can guess who "she" is![/size]

[size=4]She passes as [/size]
[size=4]A river's song[/size]
[size=4]And dances through the [/size]
[size=4]Midnight chime.[/size]
[size=4]She laughs in the face of [/size]
[size=4]Peter Pan[/size]
[size=4]And his followers [/size]
[size=4]Who would rather fly[/size]

[size=4]Than face her [/size]
[size=4]Ultimatum sweet:[/size]
[size=4]The ever-changing present, [/size]
[size=4]The hazy twilight dream.[/size]

[size=4]She reclines on the steps[/size]
[size=4]Of the universe,[/size]
[size=4]Her curving smile[/size]
[size=4]Spans the stars.[/size]
[size=4]Her fingernails[/size]
[size=4]Glow with ambition[/size]
[size=4]Igniting fear in every heart[/size]
[size=4]That cannot see past the [/size]
[size=4]Glimmer.[/size]

[size=4]Bow down in golden chains that shine,[/size]
[size=4]Knees wet in rivers that run[/size]
[size=4]Red wine.[/size]

[size=4]No! I will not[/size]
[size=4]Worship at her ivory temple.[/size]
[size=4]Her clear pale eyes [/size]
[size=4]cast no spell on me.[/size]
[size=4]It is the golden coins [/size]
[size=4]From His hands that I seek,[/size]
[size=4]Continually spilling[/size]
[size=4]On to pliable heart's receptivity.[/size]

[size=4]Patience[/size]
[size=4]My slow-thudding heartbeat and[/size]
[size=4]The man on the Cross teach me[/size]
[size=4]releases all these rusty shackles[/size]
[size=4]And sets her captives, finally, [/size]
[size=4]Free.[/size]

[ChristinaTherese]

[quote name='emmaberry101' timestamp='1353392985' post='2513518']
[size=4]10 bucks to anyone who can guess who "she" is![/size]
[/quote]
Hm.... Maybe she's Lady Fortune? (As opposed, I would say, to Lady Poverty.)
(And if I'm right, I think I'll turn those ten bucks over to your sisters. )

Edited November 20, 2012 by Christina Thérèse

[emmaberry101]

[quote name='Christina Thérèse' timestamp='1353393674' post='2513526']
Hm.... Maybe she's Lady Fortune? (As opposed, I would say, to Lady Poverty.)
(And if I'm right, I think I'll turn those ten bucks over to your sisters. )
[/quote]

Not quite! But you do get a prop! (If I have any left, that is..) Feel free to send the nuns $$$ anytime though.

Edit: All out! Be back later..

Edited November 20, 2012 by emmaberry101

[Catholicterp7]

[color=#ffffff][font='Lucida Grande', LucidaGrande, Verdana, sans-serif][size=4][center][background=rgb(39, 13, 12)]CRIMSON ROBES by Father Fitzgerald s.P.[/background][/center][/size][/font]

[font='Lucida Grande', LucidaGrande, Verdana, sans-serif][center][background=rgb(39, 13, 12)]Why is Thy Apparel red my Bridegroom?
The bleeding grapes make answer on Thy way.
Oh, tread the wine press not alone, Beloved.
Behold I follow, Jesu, trahe me![/background][/center][/font][font='Lucida Grande', LucidaGrande, Verdana, sans-serif][center][background=rgb(39, 13, 12)]*[/background][/center][/font]

[font='Lucida Grande', LucidaGrande, Verdana, sans-serif][center][background=rgb(39, 13, 12)]Thy own most Precious Blood adorns Thee, Jesus.
This “garment” I desire – Oh, make it mine!
Immerse me in Thy overflowing Chalice
That I find raiment, too, in Love’s Pure Wine.

Thou art Thyself the one Eternal High Priest,
And yet thy boundless Goodness doth impart
To many souls a Sacerdotal calling,
To offer LOVE to LOVE with LOVE’S own Heart!

For such as these accept my life’s oblation—
I daily pray their number be increased,
And beg for each already consecrated,
The grace to live and die a Holy Priest.

If Thy anointed ones have this misfortune,
That from their sacred calling they depart,
Accept my life’s atonement, humbly offered
And lead them back, Good Shepherd to Thy Heart.[/background][/center][/font]

[font='Lucida Grande', LucidaGrande, Verdana, sans-serif][center][background=rgb(39, 13, 12)]* “Jesu, trahe me” is Latin for “Jesus, draw me.”[/background][/center][/font][/color]

[color=#ffffff][font='Lucida Grande', LucidaGrande, Verdana, sans-serif][center][background=rgb(39, 13, 12)]JMJ+ [/background][/center][/font][/color]

[emmaberry101]

Catholicterp: I love that poem! Reminds me of this image:

[IMG]http://i41.photobucket.com/albums/e280/emmajaneberry/89EDB7F0-40DA-4662-B8F0-8382FB82272D-215-0000002D1176349D.jpg[/IMG]


[quote name='Christina Thérèse' timestamp='1353393674' post='2513526']

Hm.... Maybe she's Lady Fortune? (As opposed, I would say, to Lady Poverty.)
(And if I'm right, I think I'll turn those ten bucks over to your sisters. )
[/quote]

Sorry Christina Therese, I forgot I had posted the poem with the Q! The answer is Time.

[got2luvjc]

I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end

He noted that first came her date of her birth
And spoke the following date with tears,

But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years

For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own;
The cars, the house, the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard.
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
To consider what’s true and real
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy is being read
With your life’s actions to rehash
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?

Linda Ellis

[Pax_et bonum]

I came across this poem flipping through a book in the library and thought it was cute:

 

What Makes Being Catholic Great? A Child's Prayer

 

What makes being Catholic great?

Lots of little things--

Incense, bells, and candles,

Feathery angel wings,

Stained glass in the morning,

A Rosary to hold tight,

A priest up at the altar

In purple, green, or white.

 

What makes being Catholic great?

Lots of little things--

Playing with the Christmas crib,

The camels, and the kings,

Staying up for Midnight Mass

Long past the time for bed,

Skipping meat on Fridays

To have grilled cheese instead...

 

Dressing up like brides and grooms

On First Communion Day,

Making chains of daisies

For Mary's crown in May,

Drawing pictures of the saints

With halos shining bright,

Then helping fill up Noah's ark

With pets that never bite.

 

What makes being Catholic great?

Lots of big things, too--

Knowing Baby Jesus

Grew up like me and you.

 

Hearing how he saved us

By dying on the tree,

And now is always with us

As real as you or me...

 

Reading in the Bible

Good News for every day,

Finding full forgiveness

Those times we disobey,

Having seven sacraments

To mark the road ahead--

Like when a baby's baptized

Or a man and woman wed,

Seeing just one family

In every different face,

Winning life in heaven

To rest in God's embrace.

 

What makes being Catholic great?

Knowing it's so true

That God is good, and so are we,

And every day's brand new,

That every life's important,

And God loves each the same,

No matter our religion,

Our color, or our name.

 

I love being Catholic

Every single day!

It's how I show my love for God

In an extra special way.

[Eowyn]

These are from Emmaberrys thread.

 

To One Hesitant

 

"The Sisters fast every day except on Sundays and Christmas,

never eat meat, rise at midnight for prayer and meditation, wear

a coarse habit, and always go barefoot."

From: Explanation of the Rule of St. Clare

 

You wonder

at survival through death-bleached hours,

sere plains, incommiserate sands.

And you are afraid.

 

Oh! leave those timorous chains

that bind you

in the dark dungeon of age-old compromise!

Unchained, your heart shall dare

these sands unfearing

and oh! a thousand times

will almost find the reason

just there between the sunlight and the silence.

 

There will be

the sudden leap of longing

in the soul pregnant with faith and hope,

arms outflung without any willing,

singing pain in the heart,

words splintering helplessly,

the whole sky unslung,

star-desolate, moon-empty,

the rumor of Him quivering everywhere.

 

And when this flash of the reason

is gone

out of hand's grasp,

heart's reach,

furious will's shouting,

the sands will blaze

with gorgeous recall

and plains go quick-cool

beneath the feet.

 

Recall indeed will fade

but then perhaps

there will be another moment

rocketed out of eternity,

out of reality,

runaway, splendid, sustaining,

when you will almost hold Him

and your hands almost grasp

the reason.

 

These are the moments

that make for survival;

and one will not end,

being death.

 

Concerning Affluence

 

I am the richest one in town

Although they may not know it

Who count their funds and lay aside

Good portions against winter.

 

I am the richest one on earth,

Unshod I walk to tell it.

All silvered stars are my small coins

For sudden need arising.

 

I am the richest in the world

Or in the heavens either,

Owning a greater need than all

For God to come and fill it.

[Catholicterp7]

To live in the midst of the world without wishing its pleasures;

To be a member of each family, yet belonging to none;

To share all sufferings, to penetrate all secrets, to heal all wounds;

To go from men to God and offer Him their prayers;

To return from God to men to bring pardon and hope;

To have a heart of fire for charity and a heart of bronze for chastity;

To teach and to pardon, console and bless, always.

My God, what a life! And it is yours O Priest of Jesus Christ! ~Lacordaire.

[littlesister]

My forever favorite is called "Patrins," by Sr. Madeleva Wolff, CSC, especially the second stanza.  After I looked the title up in the dictionary, it made a lot of sense.  For anyone else to whom this is a new word, "patrins"  are the signs that native peoples and gypsies left as they traveled, so that those coming after would know where to find them.  Sister wrote this as a tribute to a place as well as to the persons with whom she had spent a marvelous summer doing a course.

 

 

                        Yes, I shall leave these patrins as I go :                                                 Plucked grasses here, a few blown blossoms there,

                      To tell you, though I've gone, how much I care.

                           To tell you also, should you want to know,

                     The way I've taken, my beloved, so

                     That you can find me, find me anywhere.

 

 

                      Be still, my heart, you know he does not dare

                     To follow dreams.  Have you no signs to show?

                     Only the wide, white wonder of the stars,

                     And strange, lone rest within the arms of dawn,

                     And love that binds, and truth that sets me free.

                    The wild and wistful way that I have gone

                     Leads but to peace.        Beloved, follow me!

[Catholicterp7]

Catholicterp: I love that poem! Reminds me of this image:






Sorry Christina Therese, I forgot I had posted the poem with the Q! The answer is Time. :)

I absolutely love that picture! :love: 

 

 

Wait   by Russell Kelfer

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;

Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.

I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . .

And the Master so gently said, "Wait." 

"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply."

Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!

Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?

By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.

"My future and all to which I relate

Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?

I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign,

Or even a 'no' to which I can resign. 

"You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,

We need but to ask, and we shall receive.

And Lord I've been asking, and this is my cry:

I'm weary of asking! I need a reply." 

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,

As my Master replied again, "Wait."

So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,

And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting for what?" 

He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .

and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.

I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.

I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.

"I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.

You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.

You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint.

You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.

"You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;

You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.

You'd not know the joy of resting in Me

When darkness and silence are all you can see.

"You'd never experience the fullness of love

When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.

You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,

But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.

"The glow of my comfort late into the night,

The faith that I give when you walk without sight.

The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask

From an infinite God who makes what you have last.

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,

What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.

Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,

But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I'm doing in you.

"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see

That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.

And though oft My answers seem terribly late,

My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait."

 

  Â© 1980 Russell Kelfer. All rights reserved.

 

 

This offering I bring to the Lord 

I tried to make it something fit for a king

I tried to make it beautiful 

I tried to make it perfect

because I love Him so much

When on my journey 

I stumbled and fell 

My offering was broken 

and my heart was too

When I saw my gift shattered on the ground 

I wept at the thought of offering this mess to Him 

my king my lord and my love

I wanted to run, I didn't want to give Him this 

This was not how it was meant to be 

but I knew that I had to do it

I knew there was no way around it 

I went to Him only through the courage His love gave me

I gave Him my broken dreams 

my shattered plans 

and my pain filled heart 

As I saw the love in His eyes

and found the courage to let go 

the most amazing thing happened

As He touched the pieces of my broken life 

I saw an immense bright light 

come forth into the cracks

in His hands my offering 

my gift becomes perfect

 

 

 

Oh what joyous a transformation love has wrought

The perfect Lover

God in Heaven 

in all His perfection

the unworthy beloved

Humanity in all our sin

Out of pure, intense love the Lover is transformed into the beloved

the beloved, overwhelmed with love, cries out in reply and is transformed into the Lover

The total submersion of the whole being into the tender love of God

that is what brings this transformation about

His total love and the hearts total yes

Nothing less then totality will do.

He will accept no partial gift, for He has given no partial gift

He has given all for love, what will the beloved give in return?

What can the heart say but yes

a total transformation occurs

 

 

 

Behold the handmaid of the Lord

Afraid and confused yet trusting in God's great love and power. 

She has no way to know how it will work or why she has been chosen

Yet she gives everything to Him in a beautiful surrender

 

Behold the Man

Beaten and bruised for our sins.

Trembling in agony, limbs hardly strong enough to bear the weight of that poor aching body.

So bloody and bruised He stands before us.

Knowing what must come next, knowing the agonizing pain and sorrow of all the world will soon be on His shoulders

Yet He gives everything in a beautiful surrender

 

Behold the Lamb of God. 

The sacrifice at Calvary continuing still today.

Christ made present, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity for us today.

The non-bloody representation of the atoning acts of Christ.

No more is He bloody and beaten, now we see Him crucified and risen both here in this Eucharist.

Now He is in  Heaven a victorious King

Yet He continues to give everything in a beautiful surrender.

 

Behold myself

Here I stand on the edge.

I am afraid and unsure like Mary.

I am sometimes beaten and bruised by life like Christ

Yet I know that I will be made new in the Eucharist.

I do not know wheree life is going or why He has chosen me but I trust in Him. 

I will give everything in a beautiful surrender.

 

JMJ+ :heart: 

[ChristinaTherese]

A segment (I think, but I'm not sure) of a poem from a blog post:

 

How may I tell you of the thoughts I hold
concealed from men as misers guard their gold,
lest in their speech their beauty like a bird
set free, escape and young new thoughts that stirred
my love to flames grow still and strangely old?

I am the undisputed property
of Him whose wishes I may not deny;
a Lover jealous of my heart, Who fills
the whole of it and in His mastery
withdraws my heart from what is passing by,
and leaves me dreaming of Eternal hills.

[BarbTherese]

TREES

by: Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)

•        

  I think that I shall never see   
  A poem lovely as a tree.   
     
  A tree whose hungry mouth is prest   
  Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;   
     
  A tree that looks at God all day,
  And lifts her leafy arms to pray;   
     
  A tree that may in summer wear   
  A nest of robins in her hair;   
     
  Upon whose bosom snow has lain;   
  Who intimately lives with rain. 
     
  Poems are made by fools like me,   
  But only God can make a tree.

   

 

"Trees" was originally published in Trees and Other Poems. Joyce Kilmer. New York: George H. Doran Company, 1914.

 

[ChristinaTherese]

Bumping this.

 

Dymphna posted a link to a website with a lot of (or maybe all of?) St. Therese's writings, including this poem:

 

 

The Atom of Jesus-Host

(Thoughts of Sr. St. Vincent de Paul put into verse at her request.)

1  I am just a speck of dust,

But I want to make my dwelling

In the shadow of the sanctuary

With the Prisoner of Love.

Ah! my soul longs for the host.

I love him and want nothing more.

It is the hidden God who attracts me.

I am the atom of Jesus...

 

2  I want to stay not knowing,

In forgetfulness of all created things,

And by my silence console

The Host of the sacred ciborium.

Oh! I would like to save souls,

And make elect from sinners.

Give the flames of an apostle

To your atom, sweet Jesus!....

 

3  If I am despised by the world,

If it considers me as nothing,

A divine peace floods me.

For I have the host as my support.

When I draw near the ciborium,

All my sighs are heard...

To be nothing is my glory.

I am the atom of Jesus....

 

4  Sometimes when Heaven is overcast

And this atom cannot take flight,

It loves to hide in the shadow

And attach itself to the golden door.

Then the Divine light,

Which makes all the elect rejoice,

Comes to earth to warm up

This poor atom of Jesus...

 

5  Under the warm rays of grace,

The atom sparkles.

When the light breeze passes by,

It gently sways...

Oh! what ineffable delight!

What favors has it not received?...

Right next to the host slips

The poor atom of Jesus...

 

6  Pining away near the host

In the tabernacle of love,

Thus my life will be spent

While waiting for the last day.

When our trials will be over,

Flying to the dwelling of the elect,

The atom of the Eucharist

Will shine near her Jesus!...

 

It came from this page: http://www.archives-carmel-lisieux.fr/english/carmel/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=60&Itemid=814

[MarysLittleFlower]

One of my favourite poems ever: http://www.passionistnuns.org/blog/poetry/poetry-of-st-paul-of-the-cross/