Sympathy Quotes

I have no wit, no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or fears.
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is in the falling leaf:
O Jesus, quicken me.

My life is like a faded leaf,
My harvest dwindled to a husk:
Truly my life is void and brief
And tedious in the barren dusk;
My life is like a frozen thing,
No bud nor greenness can I see:
Yet rise it shall–the sap of spring;
O Jesus, rise in me.

My life is like a broken bowl,
A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perished thing;
Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for Him, my King:
O Jesus, drink of me.

(Poem By Christina Rossetti)

Jesus of Nazareth, is the Christ, the Messiah
the one Son of God, the incarnation of the one God
the image of God made man, the love of God,
the Word of God given breath.
In Him there is all hope, all faith
all love of God, in the words of the law, the prophets
all the words, given meaning
in human form; but fully God

(Poem By Raymond A. Foss)

We heard a story, a very personal, very public story
of the friend who died, the friends who didn’t understand
didn’t comprehend who he was,
what his personage meant, the power he had
over life, over death, over our lives
He wept for our ignorance, our unbelief,
the corruption of the conserver mentality of the powers that be
because they want to remain the powers that be
He wept for the friend who had to die, who must be
sacrificed, as he would be, so we would see, understand
be illuminated to who he was, because we were too weak
to hear and believe. He wept for the sisters
He wept for the brothers who followed him
He wept for the elders; maybe, just maybe, he wept for himself
Jesus began to weep, tears that ultimately healed

(Poem By Raymond A. Foss)

Whatever he looked like,
and we aren’t told,
she said he must have had
beautiful eyes

Eyes to be drunk in,
along with his message
of equality, of love
Warm gentle eyes
looking tenderly into your soul
our young bachelor servant king

The one with so many women followers
in a time when women weren’t seen
or heard in the gate
Revealed to them alone
in shimmering light

Planting himself in their
good, fertile soil
sitting at his feet
longing to be with him
and his giving eyes

(Poem By Raymond A. Foss)

In my dream
I milked a cow,
the terrible udder
like a great rubber lily
sweated in my fingers
and as I yanked,
waiting for the moon juice,
waiting for the white mother,
blood spurted from it
and covered me with shame.
Then God spoke to me and said:
People say only good things about Christmas.
If they want to say something bad,
they whisper.
So I went to the well and drew a baby
out of the hollow water.
Then God spoke to me and said:
Here. Take this gingerbread lady
and put her in your oven.
When the cow gives blood
and the Christ is born
we must all eat sacrifices.
We must all eat beautiful women.

(Poem By Anne Sexton)