Among the many charming traditions of our Epiphany celebration, the toasts, poems and spontaneous jingles are a favorite. We are fortunate to have several on-the-spot poets who can crank out a rhyme or two between salad and dessert. We are also blessed, however, to have our very own poet/artist, Sr. Mary Agnes. No jubilee or feastday passes without a poem from Sister's pen and a bird-on-canvas from her pallate. Here is a recent gem:
God's love is a treasure of finest gold
Which flows in waves upon my soul
It is my crown, my joy to hold
It changes me and makes me whole.
Yet there are days when I feel cold
My prayers and sighs remain untold
No crown is there no joy to hold
"Where is my Love," not far, I'm told
"My child," he says be not upset,
Let naught on earth cause you to fret
My love is gift to all, but yet
Not all respond, and soon forget
So many souls out there adrift,
Deprived, bereaved and so bereft
Be humble, holy and uplift
These souls, by prayer and my great Gift.
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