Email Poem

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Poem

The poet rhapsodizes
over the beautiful rose.
I admit he's right in saying
that its sweet beauty shows
a God of many miracles,
too great to understand.
Marvelous are the wonders
fashioned by God's own hand.
The birds flying in the sky
and charming us with their song
were given to us by the One
who protects them all day long.
The mountains, the meadows
the stars shining bright
were created by our Master
who gave us day and night,
but the greatest blessing we receive
from our dear God above
is a precious gift he gave to all,
the capacity to love.
He took a piece of his big heart
and placed it in our own.
If we have tended to it well,
it has taken root and grown.
If we should take bit of ours
to give to those we meet,
we'll find our own has only grown
and never will deplete.
For it is not the being loved
that brings the greatest bliss,
It is giving out love of our own,
a piece we'll never miss.

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