Sunday morning poetry. Church: words spoken to me, shared lovingly with you. My second chance to shape faith every Sunday for a year.

Graciously plated food for thought
laid upon paper, digested
by those who seek the hidden.

Listen, atop a mountain
a master teaches
to winsomely speak
and raise the downtrodden.
Seek His way
upon each valley
ready to give a reason for your hope.

Who resists feeding from
vulnerable hands
fortified with truth?

An unjustified fist
is wise to search
an open hand
reaching to bring peace.
Courage besets
the wisdom of haughty
blinded by flesh.

Be spirited,
believing love is the greatest.
Love is patient,
kind, understanding
full of peace
to forgive  wrongs.
protects day and night.

Dancing tendrils tied in beautiful bows.






Poetry Sermons

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: