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One Sunday at mass, Father John Carney at St. Mary's Church in Panama, (Rep. of Panama) gave his usual sermon. But something in what he said hit me so powerfully that I came home and wrote this poem, that I now share with you. I hope you will perceive God as I did on that Sunday through the words of an inspirational priest.
He Is There
©
Yasemin Raymondo
God comes to us in quiet and simple ways.
He is there when the breeze rustles the palm fronds on a quiet, lazy, sunny afternoon.
When the raindrops softly patter on the thirsty tin roofs of the poor, he is there.
Look for him behind the laughing eyes of a child
or smell him in blossoming jasmine flowers
on a clear and starry moonlit night.
Hold his hand when you take your love by the hand
and feel the warmth of his tears
as you console a grieving friend in your arms.
He is there in a baby's first cry
and in the dying man's last sigh.
When the waves breaks on the golden sands
and the seagulls fly into the white clouds
When the church bells ring on an Easter Sunday
inviting you to receive the sacred brad, he is there.
Taste him when you bite into the yellow ripeness of a mango
of when you quench your thirst with sweet water of a coconut.
God comes to us only in quiet and simple ways.
Never his presence in violence will you find;
never look for him in words of anger or cowardly actions.
His love and his peace surround us, above and beyond.
And only in those simple , everyday things
when we look with our eyes filled with his love
can we find him.
He Is There by Yasemin Raymondo @FamilyFriendPoems
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He is there when the breeze rustles the palm fronds on a quiet, lazy, sunny afternoon.
When the raindrops softly patter on the thirsty tin roofs of the poor, he is there.
Look for him behind the laughing eyes of a child
or smell him in blossoming jasmine flowers
on a clear and starry moonlit night.
Hold his hand when you take your love by the hand
and feel the warmth of his tears
as you console a grieving friend in your arms.
He is there in a baby's first cry
and in the dying man's last sigh.
When the waves breaks on the golden sands
and the seagulls fly into the white clouds
When the church bells ring on an Easter Sunday
inviting you to receive the sacred brad, he is there.
Taste him when you bite into the yellow ripeness of a mango
of when you quench your thirst with sweet water of a coconut.
God comes to us only in quiet and simple ways.
Never his presence in violence will you find;
never look for him in words of anger or cowardly actions.
His love and his peace surround us, above and beyond.
And only in those simple , everyday things
when we look with our eyes filled with his love
can we find him.
He Is There by Yasemin Raymondo @FamilyFriendPoems
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