Your Favorite Poems

[MarysLittleFlower]

dp...

Edited May 19, 2013 by MarysLittleFlower

[MarysLittleFlower]

St Therese's poems :)

http://archives-carmel-lisieux.fr/english/carmel/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=1114&Itemid=118

 

I've always loved this one: http://www.ourgardenofcarmel.org/yourcross.html

"Your Cross", by St Francis de Sales.

[MarysLittleFlower]

What I love

What I love, once said St. Francis of Sales
In his graceful language,
More than all the treasures that this world lays out,
More than all the treasures of heaven:

Yes, what I love more than the flower that is mirrored
On the edge of the transparent waters,
More than the breeze sighs,
More than the sublime flight and the songs of birds,

More than the flood followed by the flood that wipes it off
And it’s whisper that puts me to sleep,
More than the stars, gold glows
Hatched in the fields of wonderful spaces

More than a light casting in the heart of the wicked
Fortunate and strong alarms,
More than the blue eyes of a child
Smiling through his tears,

More than the golden lamp whose light
Radiates in the back of the sanctuary,
More than the sweetest moments of ecstasy and prayer
Spent in the presence of the Lord

More than the Paradise where my soul flies
The Heaven where God awaits me,
And more than the secrets of his Holy Word
That my heart hears in the silence

More than His gentle smile and even His grace
Always radiant, glowing everywhere,
What I love, finally, what I love:
Is the Will of God.

Translation from http://www.icrsp.org...FR-DE-SALES.htm

 

This poem is incredible...

[MarysLittleFlower]

A lone young shepherd lived in pain
withdrawn from pleasure and contentment,
his thoughts fixed on a shepherd-girl
his heart an open wound with love.

He weeps, but not from the wound of love,
there is no pain in such affliction,
even though the heart is pierced;
he weeps in knowing he’s been forgotten.

That one thought: his shining one
has forgotten him, is such great pain
that he bows to brutal handling in a foreign land,
his heart an open wound of love.

The shepherd says: I pity the one
who draws herself back from my love
and does not seek the joy of my presence,
though my heart is an open wound with love for her.

After a long time he climbed a tree,
and spread his shining arms,
and hung by them, and died,
his heart an open wound with love.

 

 

~ St. John of the Cross
http://www.passionistnuns.org/blog/poetry/poetry-of-bridegroom-bride/

 

 

 

 

 

Edited May 19, 2013 by MarysLittleFlower

[MarysLittleFlower]

Lo, there He hangs

-Ashened figure pinioned against the wood.

God grant that I might love Him

Even as I should.

I draw a little closer

To feel His love divine,

And Hear Him gently whisper,

“Ah, precious child of mine -

If now I should embrace you,

My hands would stain you red,

And if I leaned to whisper,

My thorns would pierce your head.”

‘Twas there I learned in sorrow

That love demands a price;

‘Twas then I learned that suffering is but the kiss of Christ.

 

~ Trappist monk

 

http://www.passionistnuns.org/blog/poetry/poetry-inside-the-passion/

 

 

 

Edited May 19, 2013 by MarysLittleFlower

[MarysLittleFlower]

Here is a poem that I wrote after making my Total Consecration in 2009... I'm far from a poet (as you can see from the lack of structure) but the words came very easily and I know there are others here who have made the Consecration too :)

 

Prayer to the Queen of Heaven

In Thanksgiving for my Total Consecration to Jesus through Mary, on June 27th, 2009.

 

I.  Mother, this day is a secret.

see how well I hide it.

 

I walk through these streets,

see how ordinary I am.

 

people pass me by,

they do not suspect... the world does not know.

 

sun turns to twilight, the clock ticks,

with every step I come closer.

 

only a little further

there is the steeple, the cross...

the familiar little church.

there is my Love hidden.

 

do You hear my heart beating?

there You wait for me,

ready to take my heart.

 

You have captured me!

 

II. O Mother, dare I say these words.

You see all the Angels listen.

the court of Heaven is silent.

I have only but a moment,

I dare not hesitate.

 

O Holy Angels, help me!

the Queen of Heaven is my Mother,

and I come poor, dressed in rags.

how poor is my heart.

 

my Jesus, does this please You?

oh, tell me, please speak!

 

III. Lovely Lady,

I see your beauty and I'm speechless.

I see your purity and I'm dust.

You have a crown of stars like diamonds,

and the moon is under your feet.

 

O cover me with your mantle.

Your Heart is radiant,

let all darkness flee.

see how fearful I am.

the enemy of my soul pursues me

he is almost at the door,

he taunts me with my sin.

 

this day is like no other,

and I have no courage.

let me only say your name,

and I will live.

 

O Mary, Mary!

how lovely is your name.

I will write it out with jewels,

I will sing it with the Angels.

You fill  my heart with joy.

 

IV. Blessed Mother, receive these roses,

formed in the depths of my heart.

each rose, a Hail Mary.

fervently I prayed them,

to proclaim you blessed.

 

they are not like the roses of the Saints

their fragrance less heavenly,

their colours less brilliant.

and they barely resemble roses at all.

 

they grew in a dark valley,

far from the sun.

 

i carried them here with utmost care,

yet - how I wish to give you a greater gift!

 

V. Oh Mary, what sweetness!

raise me from the ground,

hold me trembling to your Heart.

speak tenderly to me.

 

i look into your eyes,

and forget the things of earth.

 

Jesus,

Your love is my priceless treasure, my bliss.

 

Kind, gentle Mother,

how long must I wait?

[MarysLittleFlower]

"Divine Wisdom, I love Thee unto folly.
I am Thy lover.
Thou alone in this world I seek,
Thou alone I desire.
I am a man gone mad with love,
Forever chasing Thee.
Tell me who Thou art,
For I am half blind.
I can discern only
That Thou art a secret I must fathom.
Show Thyself fully to my soul
Which dies for love of Thee.
Where dost Thou live,
Wisdom Divine?
Must I cross continents or seas
To find Thee,
Or fly across the skies?
I am ready to go wherever Thou art,
Not counting the costs, to possess Thee."

St Louis de Montfort

(from preface to True Devotion)

[AccountDeleted]

I adore poetry - it is so much like praying. Here are a couple of my favorites though...

 

 

 

SONNET 29

 

When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

 

- William Shakespeare

 

 

 

----------------------------

 

And also this one by a Carmelite nun

 

Somebody Else

 

Somebody Else had a heavier cross,

Than the one I bear today,

And the path were far too steep for me,

Had not Somebody led the way.

 

Somebody Else had a sadder heart

Than the weary one in my breast,

Somebody’s aching thorn crowned Head

Had nowhere to lie in rest.

 

Somebody Else’s tired Hands

And Somebody’s wounded Feet,

Were never too weary to minister

And somebody’s smile was sweet.

 

Somebody’s Head was bent

Not with the weight of years,

And the light in somebody’s beautiful Eyes

Was dimmed by many tears.

 

Somebody else’s love was spent

And tears were wept in vain,

Shall I then count my weeping lost

Or grudge a little pain?

 

Somebody Else was left alone

Beneath an olive tree,

And nobody cared for Somebody Else

More than they do for me.

 

But away past life’s dull gloaming

Across the crystal sea,

Somebody Else and I shall love

For all eternity.

 

©Carmel, Tallow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[ChristinaTherese]

Bump.

[Lilllabettt]

 Gerard Manley Hopkins!!!!!!!

 

God's Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.