Marilene Evans Poet Terza Rima

My Sweet Lord

MY SWEET LORD
	 
When I was a little girl, we used to pray and say our grace
at our altar every day at six in the evening before dinner
and to say a little prayer at bed time in my bed space.

So early in life, I came about my faith and it got clearer
that Jesus is the Holy One, when I went to a Catholic class.
I learned to love one another and to try not to be a sinner. 

The first time I ever saw your face, my Jesus was not in a mass.
It was when I was given a fifty-fifty chance to live, the day my
first child was born and I was pleading, “Lord spare me”, I asked.

I awoke surrounded by loved ones looking at me, drying their eyes.
My aunt told me I almost did not make it and I felt the oxygen mask
on my face, when joy came upon me realizing I was spared and I cried.

My Jesus, thank you for being with me, assuring me it is You I can rely.
My Sweet Lord, you always give me hope and it is only You I abide by.


6/19/21       Jesus Poetry
                   Regina McIntosh

Used:           RhymeZone
                   PS Grammar Checker

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