Friendship with God...

Image credit: ilovemyshepherd.com

MY FRIEND

"…there is a friend

who sticks closer than a brother."

Proverbs 18:24

Sometimes I go to God's house, sometimes He visits mine;

He often comes to work with me and helps me pass the time.

He's with me in the kitchen when I cook and as I scrub;

I meditate upon Him while lolling in the tub.

He keeps me company driving and when I take a walk;

God and I stroll quietly and other times, we talk.

God's there when I am shopping and watering my flowers;

He inspires my writing, in computer-weary hours.

He's in me as I minister and hears me as I pray,

lifts me up when I am downcast and helps me through the day.

He sups with me at table and He joins me in my rest.

Oh, when we are communing, they're the times I like the best.

God loves it when I worship Him and glorify His Name;

He shines His face upon me and ignites me with His flame!

I read to know God better, for He knows all about me;

fills sleepy thoughts at bedtime with His sweet tranquility.

How blessed I am to know Him! Love overflows my heart!

I count upon His faithfulness and know we'll never part.

My heart is filled with gladness every moment that I spend

with the Creator of the Universe, Holy God, my Friend.

Maude Carolan

Pentecost Sunday

Congratulations to my grandson,
Aiden Randy Thompson,
who received the Sacrament of  Confirmation, today
at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church,
Manasquan, New Jersey.

God bless you, Aiden!

Image credit: holyspiritri.org

THE UPPER ROOM

In remembrance of Pentecost 1979—

The Upper Room Charismatic Prayer Group at the Parish Center,

St. Catherine of Bologna RC Church, Ringwood, NJ—

Father Matthew Gaskin, pastor

Here I am, Lord

at the podium in The Upper Room

reading my poems again

The Upper Room—

room of my second birth

where thirty-five years ago

after questioning Your existence

and the meaning of life

the truth of the Gospel became real to me—

Yes, it was here, in this very place

that Father Matthew delivered the prayer

for those of us who desired to be Born Again

and filled with the Holy Spirit—

a birth both spiritual and virginal

from the Seed of God alone

a prayer that changed our lives

completely and forevermore

There was no primal cry at our rebirth

but exultant cries of “Hallelujah!”

and Pentecostal utterances

No amniotic fluid

but streams of Living Water

and Second Chapter of Acts tongues of fire

that we couldn’t see with our eyes

but knew in the realm of the Spirit

were blazing above our heads

In a wonderful and mysterious way

that night and this room was reflective

of another Pentecost; another upper room

another descent of the Spirit—

somewhere in Jerusalem, 2000 years ago

We became new creations that night

like those believers of old—

burning with Light

that has not grown dim

Maude Carolan Pych

A Mother's Day Tribute to My Mom

My Beautiful Mother

Frances Longo Walsh
1915-1966

OLD MOTHERS

Never had the opportunity--

missed the privilege

of doting upon my old mother.

Mother died

of a heart attack

at fifty-one

Watch with envy--

sweet old mothers

with rosy rouged cheeks

and charming smiles

carefully navigating

footed canes

or wheeled walkers

Dutiful daughters

accompany them

pleasantly

in doctor’s waiting rooms

taking their tweed coats

making small talk

about the grandchildren

and what Aunt So And So

will be serving

the church ladies for lunch

Blessed daughters

who left beds unmade

dishes in the sink

who listen attentively

to doctor’s instructions

see that Medicare

and supplementary insurances

are processed properly

who assist them

with their coats

and to their cars

stopping at pharmacies

on the way home

Maude Carolan

My mother went to be with the Lord a week before my 22nd birthday and I've missed her sweet presence in my life all these years. She was selfless and humble, a diligent help-meet to my father and simply the dearest mother one could ever have.

The above poem received an honorable mention in the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Contest.

Happy Mother's Day

to mothers, everywhere...

God bless you all!

Thank you, Karen Lee Ramos

for hosting a delightful afternoon of poetry, today,

at the Barn Gallery, Ringwood Manor State Park.

I enjoyed reading poems from my book

and listening to all the other fine poets.

And now...another poem about the Dead Sea:

Photo credit: britannica.com

LIFE FROM THE DEAD SEA

Israel Pilgrimage—1986

There’s something mysterious

yet wondrous

about this great water body

that lies smooth and still

in the midst of utter barrenness

so salty, one can actually climb

and walk upon giant saline mushrooms

which rise up from sea bottom

at the lowest ebb on Earth

For millenniums it has taken

from the Galilee and Jordan

without giving—

refusing sustenance

to fish and flora

hoarding its rich minerals

and precious oils which intensify

in ongoing evaporation

People flock to its shores

from far continents

to bathe, buoyed

in lifeless waters that heal

They even slather their bodies

with its dark therapeutic mud

receiving restoration

from the deadest dead

One great day

the mighty arm of God

will reach down, down, down

to touch its lifeless liquidity

with miraculous rebirth

Its waters will spring to life!

Fish will thrive

Trees will bear magnificent fruit

along its lush and fertile shores

Maude Carolan