The Beauty of a Sunday

Oceans 993

A Prose Poem

The problem with getting older, is that you’ve heard every sermon, or you think you have.

I didn’t learn faith in a church, the woods taught me, when I was young, showed me there was something greater. I saw the church filled with people, but their hearts were not still.

Later, the wooden benches were hard, difficult sermons, long sermons, with harsh words. Railing against the Pope, or President Obama. I was confused, and my heart grew sick.

Healing for me came, in the stained glass, the space. Certainly in the peace, and in the beauty of faith. Now the sermons are shorter, and the words are decorated with love. His presence. What can we give to others?

All of this reminding me of the creation, the woods, the rivers, the mountains, and the beauty of life.

My heart is full now, and contented.

And in the late afternoon, Sundays were made, for napping.

Writing and Image © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Across the Miles

across the miles

I know that when My Love and I are far apart,

You are with us,

watching,

guiding, filling us with prayer,

even when tornados threaten,

on the horizon.

Daily, hourly guarding,

our love, our thoughts,

the negative bounces,

and hope like the wind,

strengthens our weakened knees.

I once knew a man,

with his head in the mountains,

brought down to earth,

with the simplicity of love,

 tangible, sensible,

and life giving love,

regardless of the miles.

Please send the angels,

to keep her safe,

when we are far apart,

and My Love, is across the miles.

 Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

image from google