Sister Poetry

And how shall we speak of the Prophets?
Do they rage against the injustice
Of the rich still consuming the poor?
Are they weeping at the deaths of
Of those taken by climate change storms,
The ravishing of homes and land,
And precious lives?
Do they tear their garments
When lies are so callously
Shouted as truth while clouding
Innocence with barbaric rhetoric?
Or are they marching steadfastly
Through the ashes of all that seems lost,
Still condemning tyrannical actions
By speaking a Gospel of Love.
Are their hands and bodies brittle and old,
While their dreams remain vivid?
Or are they the young
Dancing in the darkness of what is yet unknown?
Do they walk together
With the children of tomorrow
Sometimes gently singing,
Sometimes allowing their tears
To water the land and soften hearts?
Do their soft smiles
Offer joyful hope.
And how shall we speak of the Prophets,
The Whisperers of God’s heart?

Never has pain so ravaged my soul
Never such an emptiness of joy
Within my being
Never such a longing for
Something or someone.
To hold, to touch, to fill, to heal,
To give myself to
Such brokeness of realities
Family, community, friends, dreams
Still, still I hold to hope
(S)He is faithful even in this utter silence
(S)He is somehow within
The very core of all
And I must believe
It doesn’t take away the pain
Or fill the emptiness
Or even make sense
But somehow it holds things together
Gives hope
Hope gives hope.

God, we need your love to melt the ice we build up within and around us.
May light shine in the darkness, a candle to see the way.
May fire bring warmth to the icy day, many candles together.
May our hearts sing of love in the sadness and struggle of chaos.
In our weakness we are strong, together we are bonded as one.
May our voices ring out, speaking the truth even when we are not listened to.
May our faith hold tight to our hope and always trust in God’s love.
Our hearts are meant to love and give-life.
May every breath we take each day be a prayer of gratitude and reason to love our neighbor.