Spiritual Writing Poems

A myriad of words could be written today
Ten thousand more tomorrow and onwards
I will never cease the art of writing
Cannot bear the notion of holding...

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Like the strokes of an artist’s brush
Painting a self-portrait of my life
The colors are people, events, and experiences
Each stroke flows into the next creating the...

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A grateful dream is woven into every moment, and gratitude shines in all the colors of the mosaic that is life.
This feeling shines through both...

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It's about the meaning, not the messenger.
It's about the message, not the money.
It's about time to make things better.
It's about how we can live in...

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I was in the hospital at only five, 
the medicine gave me a big hive. 
Sunday school taught us to be alive, 
my spirit soared...

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Matthew Hendy lived centuries ago
a non-conformist minister in England
although Welsh-born lived across the border
lived 51 years made true Christian stand

His greatest piece of work by...

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Someone asks if my literary work is fiction or reality
Engaging and inspiring those to read with affection
Expressing my thoughts and feelings through poetry
Weaving my spiritual,...

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In the assure abyss of the Dead Sea, where the salt laden waves danced with a sapphire sparkle, ancient legends converged with modern marvels, 

A...

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Most of my flying now
is restricted to planes,
feet less able to 
“trip the life fantastic” -- 

age having slowed fast living
to delayed starts and early
finishes...

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In that endless night
we heed; cold and bitterness
unto the morning light
Sightless vision binds our eyes
madness disembarks into our lives
A cold dark prison earned
is the bittersweet...

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As the rain trickles down the cracks of my stained oak casket 
And it stains the fabric of my tattered shirt with the crimson paint...

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Dear God:
Thank you for this amazing day and for the gift of life you’ve given me.

Thank you for providing me with everything I ever truly...

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What muse comes fourth
and in what form and creed?
I must admit, I am touched in the head
and my insides barren and sore

So shall today's seed...

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Sr. Faustina had prayed...
for souls to be un-decayed

her Divine Mercy crusade--
was for a long time delayed

her cool Diary -- forbade!
its publishers, too afraid!!

its devotees, all...

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I am a poet,
But you'd never know it.
I speak with words of no import,
No sparkling or witty retort.

I am ordinary at best,
Not many are ...

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