Emmanuel Godo

 

Prayer & Wealth

 Folded hands signify being bound; even more, it seems to me: between folded hands there's no more room for anything else -- even for something that is just coming into being. But when the hands separate again after prayer, perhaps LORD, you can entrust them with something as a proof that everything comes from You. 

 The more Love one gives away the richer one becomes. Wealth finally becomes limitless, in fact, only when it has become naked poverty.

. . .

when The Crown of Thorns

becomes

The Crown of GOD's KISSES 

🔷 ⚜️ 🔷

Rabia of Basra

 

O my Lord,

the stars glitter

and the eyes of men are closed.

Kings have locked their doors

and each lover is alone with his love.

Here, I am alone with You.

"Women in Praise of The Sacred", edited by Jane Hirshfield, 1995

Joseph Mary Plunkett

"I See His Blood Upon The Rose"

I see His blood upon the rose

And in the stars the glory of His eyes,

His body gleams amid eternal snows,

His tears fall from the skies.

I see His face in every flower;

The thunder and the singing of the birds

Are but His voice -- and carven by His power,

Rocks are His written words.

All pathways by His feet are worn,

His strong Heart stirs the ever - beating sea.

His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,

His Cross is every tree.

"The Golden Book of Catholic Poetry" edited by Alfred Noyes - J.B. Lippincott Company, New York, NY 1946

John Hall Wheelock (1886-1978): "Exile From God"

I do not fear to lay my body down

                             In death, to share

The life of the dark earth, and lose my own,

                              If God is there.

I have so loved all sense of Him, sweet might

                              Of colour and of sound, --

His tangible loveliness and living light

                              That robes me 'round.

If to His heart in the hushed grave and dim

                                We sink more near,

It shall be well -- living we rest in Him.

                                 Only I fear

Lest from my God in lonely death I lapse,

                                 And the dumb clod,

Lose Him; for God is life, and death perhaps

                                 Exile from God.

The Golden Book of Catholic Poetry, edited by Alfred Noyes, 1946

Amado Nervo

 "Cuando Dios Lo Quiera"

Santa florecita, celestial renuevo,

que hiciste de mi alma una primavera,

y cuyo perfume para siempre llevo:

Cuando en mi camino te hallaré de nuevo?

-- Cuando Dios lo quiera, cuando Dios lo quiera!

. . .

Poema del Libro "La Amada Inmóvil", 1947