Quotes about psalm, page 7
The Fourth Stall
The serenity prayer and a Shakespeare sonnet
appear on the bathroom wall,
stalls heavily sodden with urine-
Who cleans these public restrooms anyway?
a Spanish lady named Maria,
all Spanish women bear this name-
She cleans them no doubt, so well
the bleach leaves stains.
I thought about leaving behind
a few words of my own, maybe
a hope psalm-
But ya know,
being in the presence of a memory
I'm seeing through a stranger's eyes,
has made me do something I never do....
I miss you
poem by Amberlee Carter
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A Blessed Land
A blessed land
Yields Abundance from its soil,
It mountains hand
Its people, Harvest for their toil.
A faithful womb
That births forth much Provision,
She's one from whom
We sow our bountiful nutrition.
Our blessed land
We pray God keep Her so!
And that we stand
United, together make Her grow.
God bless Her with Peace
His Truth upon Her, shine-
May the Grace that is His
Bless this lovely land of mine!
[...] Read more
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Drops of Blood
I touched her weeping heart,
The Leper's.
It's pretty warm and no scars to be seen.
Then I heard the inner song
Like a psalm.
'I am on my way to Calvary
To touch the drops of blood
Lost by our Lord Jesus.'
[Family in crisis the son's lost in the childhood of Jesus; 'Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety.']
-Luke 2: 48-
To the little girl (Pen pal) in Ethiopia, she requested a poem something about Jesus Christ since a long time in my fading dreams.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Nursery Darling
A Mother's breast:
Safe refuge from her childish fears,
From childish troubles, childish tears,
Mists that enshroud her dawning years!
see how in sleep she seems to sing
A voiceless psalm--an offering
Raised, to the glory of her King
In Love: for Love is Rest.
A Darling's kiss:
Dearest of all the signs that fleet
From lips that lovingly repeat
Again, again, the message sweet!
Full to the brim with girlish glee,
A child, a very child is she,
Whose dream of heaven is still to be
At Home: for Home is Bliss.
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Woe Is Me
Far in the cradling sky,
Dawn opes his baby eye,
Then I awake and cry,
Woe is me!
Morn, the young hunter gay,
Chases the shadows gray,
Then I go forth and say,
Woe is me!
Noon! drunk with oil and wine,
Tho' not a grief is thine,
Yet shalt thou shake with mine!
Woe is me!
Eve kneeleth sad and calm,
Bearing the martyr's palm;
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poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Sing A New Song! ! !
Singing to each new day a new song
Sing out Strong
Thy Life, it is thy song
Thy song is thy gift
The gift to be given to everyone
All across the earth
A song for all nations
Tribes, tongues
Songs of honour and majesty
will be sung
Joyous sounds from many lungs
Man, Woman, Child
Rejoice, Again Rejoice
'Let the Heavens be glad and the earth rejoice;
Let the sea roar, and all that fills it' (Psalm 96: 11)
The skies will open up
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poem by Peter LeBuhn
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Every Death Is Magic from the Enemy to Be Avenged
My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
Psalm 22
When fever burned the last light out of my daughter’s eyes,
I swore to find and kill the ones to blame. Men
must mount the long boat in the dark with spears.
At dawn, where the flowering spicebush hid my scent,
I crouched. A young wife, newborn slung across her chest,
came first for springwater. She stooped. My god,
for vengeance, spoke her secret name inside my ear. Her god
stepped back with no scream, his right hand at his mouth,
the knuckles clenched between the pointed teeth.
poem by Brooks Haxton
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Coloring Book
Each picture is heartbreakingly banal,
a kitten and a ball of yarn,
a dog and bone.
The paper is cheap, easily torn.
A coloring book's authority is derived
from its heavy black lines
as unalterable as the ten commandments
within which minor decisions are possible:
the dog black and white,
the kitten gray.
Under the picture we find a few words,
a title, perhaps a narrative,
a psalm or sermon.
But nowhere do we come upon
a blank page where we might justify
the careless way we scribbled
when we were tired and sad
and could bear no more.
poem by Connie Wanek
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Voices Of The Night : L'Envoi
Ye voices, that arose
After the Evening's close,
And whispered to my restless heart repose!
Go, breathe it in the ear
Of all who doubt and fear,
And say to them, 'Be of good cheer!'
Ye sounds, so low and calm,
That in the groves of balm
Seemed to me like an angel's psalm!
Go, mingle yet once more
With the perpetual roar
Of the pine forest dark and hoar!
Tongues of the dead, not lost
But speaking from deaths frost,
Like fiery tongues at Pentecost!
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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Happy Birthday
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Birthday is a day worthy of celebration
Of another added deliberation
That goes with graces
In the world of greatness.
Let people come and jubilate
For is a time to accumulate
And lost the pass mystery
To build a great ministry
That would never be minted.
I hear voices saying happy birthday
Radio playing happy great day
Full of song that sang
With a raising hand of a holiday
And a worship ground of a holy psalm
Listen! Listen! ! My dear
And celebrate with maturity
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poem by Adoo Tuadum
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