Sister Poetry

Sitting alone
in a chapel one day,
I was jarred by a curious sound.
Glancing about,
I knew without doubt,
that it came from the windows around.
I listened and looked
and listened again,
and much to my surprise,
the lovely stained glass
was boasting, alas!
of her role and the sun and the skies!

Said the window:
“I catch the light of the sun
and stretch it across the room
Sometimes it’s purple
Sometimes it’s red
and, at times even as gold as the moon.”

Now other small voices
joined in the boast,
and the competition grew:
Said the healthy green plants,
“You can see at a glance
we’re the only décor that’s alive!”
We need little care
We purify air
and we’re pleasing to folks who arrive.”

“Don’t forget about us,” said the candles so tall.
“We are lit for the Mass every day,
as we give of our light
we diminish in height,
yes!
grow smaller with each passing day!”

Now the pure altar linen
had heard just enough
as she stretched out for all to see:
“What a privilege is mine
when the bread and wine
become Eucharist resting on me!”
Yet another small voice
quite a distance away,
spoke up with a note of great pride:
“Here I am on the wall
and important to all,
is the message I give night and day:
“Yes, He’s here and He’s waiting
for you to stop by
bring your cares, your fears and your sin.
He will listen to all
because nothing’s too small
to a God
Who is waiting
within.