SallyS - Hello Poetry

There is a gentle stillness a quiet surrendering a lingering calm where I long to stay before the quiet wave of evening becomes too soon another day Father, draw me close enfold my weariness and give me peace, surrendered. And tomorrow when I wake grant your Holy Spirit to face the battle strong, I pray

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Aug 7, 2018

Aug 7, 2018 at 8:46 AM UTC

bedtime prayer

There is a gentle stillness a quiet surrendering a lingering calm where I long to stay before the quiet wave of evening becomes too soon another day Father, draw me close enfold my weariness and give me peace, surrendered. And tomorrow when I wake grant your Holy Spirit to face the battle strong, I pray

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And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: “Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.” And he replied: “Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.” So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night. And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East. So heart be still: What need our little life Our human life to know, If God hath comprehension? In all the dizzy strife Of things both high and low, God hideth His intention. God knows. His will Is best. The stretch of years Which wind ahead, so dim To our imperfect vision, Are clear to God. Our fears Are premature; In Him, All time hath full provision. Then rest: until God moves to lift the veil From our impatient eyes, When, as the sweeter features Of Life’s stern face we hail, Fair beyond all surmise God’s thought around His creatures Our mind shall fill.

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Dec 31, 2016

Dec 31, 2016 at 7:33 AM UTC

God Knows by M.L.Haskins (1908)

And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: “Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.” And he replied: “Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.” So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night. And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East. So heart be still: What need our little life Our human life to know, If God hath comprehension? In all the dizzy strife Of things both high and low, God hideth His intention. God knows. His will Is best. The stretch of years Which wind ahead, so dim To our imperfect vision, Are clear to God. Our fears Are premature; In Him, All time hath full provision. Then rest: until God moves to lift the veil From our impatient eyes, When, as the sweeter features Of Life’s stern face we hail, Fair beyond all surmise God’s thought around His creatures Our mind shall fill.

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In the bleak mid-winter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron Water like a stone. Snow had fallen, Snow on snow, In the bleak mid-winter Long ago. Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him Nor earth sustain, Heaven and earth shall flee away When He comes to reign. In the bleak mid-winter A stable-place sufficed, The Lord God Almighty Jesus Christ. Enough for Him, whom cherubim Worship night and day, A breastful of milk And a mangerful of hay. Enough for Him, whom angels Fall down before, The ox and *** and camel, Which adore. Angels and archangels May have gathered there, Cherubim and seraphim Thronged the air. But only His mother In her maiden bliss Worshipped the Beloved With a kiss. What can I give Him Poor as I am? If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb, If I were a wise man I would do my part. Yet what I can I give Him? Give my heart.

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Dec 18, 2016

Dec 18, 2016 at 6:03 AM UTC

In the Bleak Midwinter by Christina Rossetti (1872)

In the bleak mid-winter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron Water like a stone. Snow had fallen, Snow on snow, In the bleak mid-winter Long ago. Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him Nor earth sustain, Heaven and earth shall flee away When He comes to reign. In the bleak mid-winter A stable-place sufficed, The Lord God Almighty Jesus Christ. Enough for Him, whom cherubim Worship night and day, A breastful of milk And a mangerful of hay. Enough for Him, whom angels Fall down before, The ox and *** and camel, Which adore. Angels and archangels May have gathered there, Cherubim and seraphim Thronged the air. But only His mother In her maiden bliss Worshipped the Beloved With a kiss. What can I give Him Poor as I am? If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb, If I were a wise man I would do my part. Yet what I can I give Him? Give my heart.

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