Short Sacrament Poems
Short Sacrament Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Sacrament by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Sacrament by length and keyword.
Must have the Sacrament of Holy Eucharist
Attend Sunday mass
A person may not receive communion
Until absolved from Mortal or Venial sin
04052014
Greek= diakonos= helper
He is ordained for the ministry of the Word
Liturgy
Charitable works
Ordination includes authority
Baptize
Preach at Mass
Preside at the sacrament of Matrimony
Six roses
hands wrapped together
foreheads touching
sweet eyes meet mine
thank you
our life together
a blessed sacrament
a holy union
a sanctuary
love above all others
Valentine
Sacrament of the Holy Spirit
The second half of Baptism
Baptized Person is sealed with the 7 gifts of the Holy Spirit
It is used to strengthened the 7 gifts of the Holy Spirit
04052014
All beliefs can defeat evil forces
Greatly healing individuals
Joining kindness, love
Many now owning passions
Quoting realistic sacrament
Taking ultimate victory
With Xanadu yielding zest
The world that sets aside its halcyon days
will not reprise
the time we seized our genitals
for one audacious drama starring two,
will not recall the lightning strike
that instituted sacrament
to mark an end and set eternal fire
upon a new creation,
you and I.
~
in a moment
of meditation
sensibility
to the sacrament
manifests
a
meaning to life
in stillness
&silence
profound
deliberate
reverance
displayed
with dignity
at
the midday
break
From a valid marriage
Arises a bond between the spouses
Its very nature is perpetual
Exclusive
In a Christian marriage
Spouses are strengthened
As it were consecrated for the duties
The dignity of their state by a special sacrament.
(CCC 1638
Form:
O, blowers of the sky!
carry my prayers with you and cling to them
who sacrificed for humanity
forgotten with time
never to be recalled in the past
my heart hurts for them
my heart begs
so they might partake in sacrament.
Written: January 13, 2023
The secret of life,
making old things new:
fluffing the seas
long flattened
by sails…
restoring clouds
to the summits of mountains,
not one worth the climb
were it not for
high mysteries
I sit, pen in hand
as if holy--
we are all priests of a sort
(both light and dark)
our sacrament
that of creation.
(from The John Poems)
I absolve myself of loving you
and plead innocent
on grounds of loneliness.
My penance will be
the poetry
I misguidedly wasted on you.
For I’ll never destroy it
though the idea tempts, and reading it,
I feel a fool;
A monument to me
and my stupidity.
My monument to you.
I determined to take seize
of a lightning bolt! Paused
at every tree. Flashed and
thundered all about – stood
by every metal post, just
to see if God wanted me.
Went to the nearest church…
prayed for a voice or sign:
and from behind the altar
heard a gulping sound,
pastor draining the sacrament
wine. Not a good day.
alabaster
personification
of life
with a tiny drop of blood.
structure and form
intensely blue eyes
and
skies
below,
freefalling as a sacrament
with angels on the wing..
my palette
full of love for you
in a Freudian dream.
surreal,
I feel ,
alone again
and always will,
for I must kill
the pain of loving two.
Cruising softly through virtue of morning
Among primordial wood and fragrant garlands;
New aurora dazzles inside your lenses ,
Such afterglow which gently brings forth
The rosy advent of bridal charm--
And this unfolding of sun’s first nuptial radiance
Is mirrored within my own ardent eyes,
Hallow as life’s blessed sacrament.
a space has been withheld
from above it have been spelled
there made a sacrament of longing,
a promise of ever loving
moments passed by
no one gave a sigh-
they anticipate the journey
of a seed still tiny
many crave for its entity
address to it with no brevity;
numerous are speechless for this new day
this blessed vessel coming to the bay
I guess, next to actual
transfiguration, writing
is closest I will ever come
to sainthood. Not that
everything about me
needs correcting, the
old nun would scold me
with a suspicious smile –
for more than once I saw
her sneak a candy from her
top desk-draw, just before
lunch, and the Sacrament
of Grace...
I forgave her
with a smile....
Prayer without indemnity,
prejudice, or blame,
weaponizing Diety…
a dogma-based refrain
Through Him our Divinity
rejoining heart and mind,
to truly know Who reigns supreme
last sacrament defined
Religion like the training wheels
discarded when we we’re young,
to free the rider in the wind
—His spokes forever spun
(Easter Dreamsleep: April, 2022)
(after shakespeare)
paradigms sour repeats shade every yawning gasp past the ears swiftly yet
tell listeners such hidden nuance each hour rains sacrament tones sound
deepest thoughts silence ever reigns sweet
(pre 16th century)
paradigmsourepeatshadeveryawningaspasthearswiftlyetellistenersuch
iddenuanceachourainsacrementonesoundeepesthoughtsilencevereignsweet
stan sand
Sacrament of Penance within context of conversion
Sin harms our relationship to Eternal God
Conversion, the beginning of our journey back to Eternal God
Happens in the Sacrament of Penance
There have always two essentials
Acts of penitent
Acts of Father Christ through the ministry of the Church
Conversion must involve the change of hearts
As well as change of actions
04052014
Form:
DEEPHEARTED
By Frank Daub
Softly told –
in the manner of a wedding vow –
“I am going home”.
Said in the morning light sitting at my side.
I saw the Bride
that she had been. The GIRL
that willed to give all –
And DID.
I write it now – to help my soul
ACCEPT the fate He sent.
Belief comes now in waiting
And
Holding tight the Sacrament –
of living as He told us
So.
Unrest in me
made me so and not that,
in whatever doings and whoever is me:
something crams upwards
weaves web over web
around the thoughts.
Is it so, want it else:
it’s so damn cold
when all quivers.
Hammer and forge
my dearest words
for whom I don’t possess.
Want to caress
everyone’s head
in a sacrament,
be so for ever,
till night ebbs from me
in a godforsaken box.
Form:
honoring Rimbaud's birthday
... for some,
the wormwood of unholiness is the only sacrament known,
the ecstasy of wickedness their hymn, their
prayer, their psalm,
and the thunder-crashes aren't from hell alone
but a realm of madness known as god
thrashing about in gleeful drunkenness and
sudden epiphany of birth,
virgin in shimmering, ravishing darkness,
forever - ever, and amen...
Matisse’s “Christmas Eve”
in a procession of candles
Through the church window
in the 20th century of faces
impaled gingerly
in velvet glow
flickering shadows against
the walls
an organ streams
Through the church window
lost cutouts found
humanity gathering
into a moment of flame
Even Godless poets
recall lifelong enigmas
of golden glow
recording the same search
the same wonderment
My daughter painted my picture,
it hangs next to the mummy’s bust sculpture she made.
They both resemble each other.
They are the stages of my passing.
Mummies in some cultures
were preserving the bodies
for eternal life –
prolonging human’s existence.
So this is our ending.
“Let the dead bury their dead”,
for in death we are equal with animals.
There is no sacrament - death amounts to nothing.
Blueberries bend
in the frozen eyes of
a bowl
Oranges rippen' the
chest compress inside
a bowl
lemons light up
he soothing sounds
of a tea filled pot
I am thinking of California
A place of rich
sacrament, /a place
glissend with Kerry wood
& gold
The night to brings
fourth pictures of cool
traffic/
sunsets just
above the nights air
I am remembering
my home &
so I must pay homage.