Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.
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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Father, I am tired of counting my mistakes, I carry them in my soul like cracked icons. From each one a tear seeps out, and in that tear gathers the face I once had. I have loved without measure, like a blind man teaching his hands to see. I have loved, and their faces clung to my fingers, until I no longer knew who I was. Sometimes I think that love is a sin that smells of holy oil, a kind of wine poured over a wound so that light might be made from pain. Now, as I write, it seems to me that poetry is a kind of confession made to a banished angel, who weeps for you, but does not forgive you. Father, I am ashamed that I called You only when I was dying, and forgot You when I was alive. Ashamed that I wept in silence, when I could have laughed with You at the table. And I miss my mother, the warm broken bread, that round light from the village, where even the dogs know how to pray. Sometimes I think that You too, Father, have grown weary of so much watchfulness, and that I would find You more easily if I looked for You in an old woman sleeping on a bench in a train station, with an apple in her lap and a psalm in her pocket. I have lived my life between two silences: one was the world’s, the other, Yours. And between them, my heart beat like a rusted pendulum between guilt and forgiveness. Perhaps You loved me, Lord, but didn’t have the courage to say so. Perhaps You too hid in the rain, ashamed that we resemble each other so much. Now I no longer ask for forgiveness, only to be allowed to live within the poem, like a forgotten priest in the altar of the world, who has no believers, but still serves. And if one day You call me by name, don’t say “come,” but “you have arrived.” For I, Father, in truth, have never left.
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