When The Heart Cries

When the heart cries
the Lord hears it.
When the heart lies
the Lord hears it.
When the heart breaks
the Lord hears it.
When the heart aches
the Lord hears it.
When the heart stops
the Lord makes it start.
He lives within
each beating heart.

Presence

The sun reaches down to us,
His golden hand.
The moon, His eye,
watches over the land.
The clouds, His cloak,
thrown over the world to protect His people.
The stars, His smile,
shine down on the steeples.
The people, His children,
each and every one.
The world, His heart,
for it is our home.
God is all around us,
our ever-watching lover.
His presence surrounds us,
waiting to be discovered.

Rhythm of God

Life is a poem
that does not always rhyme.
Love is a beat
that we can't step to in time.
But there's one rhythm
you can always dance to.
It's the Rhythm of God,
composed just for you.

Living Artwork

Every sunset is a masterpiece,
with its brilliant colors alight.
Every star was placed in the sky with care,
bringing hope to the great black night.
Every cloud is shaped beautifully
by the skillful hands of the breeze.
Every wave is crafted to be smooth and sleek,
gliding through the salty blue seas.
Every human being, on Earth and in Heaven
is a living work of art.
The greatest painter is God himself.
For He created artwork with a beating heart.

All I Need

There are times when I feel like
I am incomplete.
I feel like all my hopes and dreams
have been thrown out on the street.
I feel like I'm not fully here,
like I'm only half of who I am.
But then your love fills me,
makes me whole again.
I clasp my hands together
as your power rains down from above.
I sigh, for I know
that all I need is your love.

This Is God

The calm, cool air holds me in a soft embrace.
I lay on the grass, my golden hair encircling my face.
The leaves whisper secrets as they rustle in the breeze.
I inhale the scent of roses and pine trees.
I smile. "This is God," I think.
I try to keep my eyes open, afraid to blink.
I take in my surroundings, for I fear
that if I blink, this moment will disappear.

The Sign of the Cross

God the Father: We touch our mind,
where He always will be.
God the Son: We touch our heart,
for He is in you and me.
God the Holy Spirit: We touch our shoulders,
which is where the Spirit rests,
leaning toward our ears,
and whispering God's every request.

Gold Necklace: My Sign

I wear a gold cross around my neck everywhere.
It gets snagged on my clothes, it gets snagged on my hair.
I thumps against my chest when I run.
Its cold surface freezes my skin, even in the sun.
It has a few clumps where the chain is stuck together.
Despite this, I know I will wear it forever.
"Is this an obsession?" you ask. I say, "No!"
I wear as a symbol, a sign to show....
that I am a Catholic, and always will be.
And that being on this cross, Jesus set me free.

The Pen or the Sword

A sword can kill, a sword can cause pain.

A pen can write the words we cannot proclaim.

When I am in pain, do I reach for the sword or the pen?

It seems like an easy choice, up until then.

Is the pen truly mightier than the sword?

Nonetheless, I pick up the pen and write, "Jesus is Lord."