Horror haunts my heart
And tears and fears crawl daily
Through the streets that are my life.
The fumes of fear seep slowly through my pores – –
I choke
and cry
and strangle
On images of fire and of hate
Exploding, flying, crumbling—
Burrowed deep beneath the rubble of despair,
Conceiving worlds where
Life is fear
And trust has no abode.

But our God of Ancient Newness
Dreams a hope
And loosens from its stranglehold of fear
My haunted heart,
Caresses with that godly gentle hand
This tortured world
And whispers
Loving into Being
Once again.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

You dreamed of me in love
Soft whisper-breathed my name. . .
God-loved me into being.
Be praised, my God of all that is.

You held my brokeness within your hands
And gently smoothed with godly care
My glassy, sharpened shards. . .
God-loved me into wholeness.
Be praised, my God, of broken lives.

You searched my darkness with your light. . .
Not harsh. . .
Not glaring. . .
But gently muted
Till my spirit too could bear the rays. . .
God-loved me into light.
Be praised, my God whose name is Light.

You warmed the coldness that I wore
And softened from within
The hardness of my shell. . .
Warmly. . .
Softly. . .
You embraced
And God-breathed gentleness into my veins.
Be praised, my gentle God of warmth.

You sigh with pleasure at this ME you made
And gaze in awe at all I am.
You laugh and sing with godly joy
God-breathing godness into me.
Be praised, my God,
My Joy,
My God,
My All.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF
© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

Direct my steps, my dancing God,
In rhythms slow or fast,
To dance life’s varied melodies,
Moving in clear-cut syncopated time
Or swaying slowly to the haunting music
Only hearts can hear.

Direct my steps, my dancing God,
To join the dance of time,
Stretching,
Reaching,
Touching hand to hand
All those who join the dance,
All those whose inner music
Sings your name.

Direct my steps, my dancing God,
In solo steps
Across the stage of time,
Swirling,
Leaping,
Drawn by mystic music only I can hear,
Dancing life
As only I can do.

Direct my steps, my dancing God,
Moving to the rhythm of your heart,
Twirling,
Spinning,
Leaping unafraid,
Trusting in the sureness of your love
That lifts me high
And whispers softly in my heart
The music of the dance
I am.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

I walk my life…
Emmaus bound…
Side by side a God
Whose touch I’ve felt in varied grace-gift ways.
And yet – at times –
Dismayed…
Distraught…
Distressed…
I cry—fear-filled—
“I had hoped…
“I had hoped…”
and mourn, because—it seems—
A God all-giving does not give…
A God all-present is not there…
A God all-loving does not touch…

And then
In tender tones that mingle
Love
And understanding of my foolish ways
And question why I am so slow to understand,
My gentle God reminds me
Of the gift that I have been…
The presence
Of the God-ness I have shared…
The touch of God
That flows in gentle rhythm
Through the music of my life.
And so…Emmaus-come…
I know my God…

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF
© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia.  Poetry for Prayer:  Volume I.  All rights reserved.

words. . .
uttered in jest
or scorn,
in anger
or in hate,
words. . .
like knives
that cut the heart
and scar the mind,
words. . .
that cripple being,
paralyze what might become.

The Word. . .
Utterance of the God-Who-Is,
culling into being
god-within
my crippled, shredded heart,
whispering into wholeness
the contradiction that I am,
singing deep within my soul,
in Wisdom’s gentle
words,
the love song of a God.

The Word. . .
Who plays upon the words
of jest and scorn,
of anger and of hate,
harmonizing all with
reconciling
love
into the canticle
of what can be.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved
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Dawn’s rose-petaled sky
Grass dew-dapples winks and smiles
Morning greets her God.
*******
Slender roots go deep
Tether me to wisdom’s heart
Freeing me to soar.
*******
Heart’s core tightly closed
Rosebud dares to spiral out
Dew-kissed velvet birth.
*******
Mystery of stars
Ancient world beyond my grasp
Rooted to the earth.
*******
Ice dance in the sky
Lacy ballerinas twirl
Pirouette to earth.
*******
Bright eyed robins chirp
Calling sleepy earth to rise
Nature’s morning song.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

Pain—
Not sharp
Like the clean slash of a keen-edged knife,
But dull,
Aching,
The tender touch of bruise
That throbs beneath the skin—
Yet does not surface
And for the hiding
Hurts the more.
Burning
Like the sting of unshed tears that struggle for the easing comfort of
Release.

It takes so little—
The flashing vision of a face
Remembered,
Laughing,
And my face responds
With aching jaws that clench to hold back
Trembling tears.
A sound,
A thought
That calls to mind some word that was so much a part of
You
And my throat aches with cries that want to call your name,
Only to know—
Deep down—
That calling cannot bring you back.

How long does loving hurt?
And when does aching cease?
As long as memory can recall
And say with love
I knew you well—
And knowing
Cannot quell the
Love
Nor ease the
Ache
But only grasp that having loved
My heart can bear the
Pain.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF
© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

Life’s seamless robe
Rent with cavernous holes
Of hate and fear;
Torn by bombs
That turn to rubble
The warp and woof
Of lives;
Ripped by whispers that shred
With caustic tears
The threads that love once wove
And leave behind a world
In tatters.

And then . . .
Amid the tatters and the tears,
The threads and shreds
Of what had been,
My Weaver-God sees hope
And images of what still can be.
Begins with tender care
To gather up the tattered remnants of our lives,
To spin and weave once more
A world where Love can live,
To fashion into simple swaddling clothes
A garment that will warm
An infant God
And wrap a world grown cold
In seamless love
Incarnate.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

God-love waits . . .
Patient,
Still,
Holding deep within her rich and womb-like soil of
Hope
The promise of a newer day . . .
A vision for the seeds that dare the dark
And risk the journey
Into God.

Tiny seed surrenders to the
Dark,
Secure in knowing that
Unknowing
Does not need to fear,
Listening
To the whispered secrets of a
Gentle God,
Trusting
That her journey into
Light
Begins with roots
That burrow in the
Heart of
Hope.

Nudged by nurturing
Darkness,
Drawn by unseen
Light
Fragile newness moves
Upward,
Outward,
And with gentle pressure on the
Womb of Earth
The slender stem is born,
Embraced and welcomed by the
Sun
And holding promise in its hidden roots.

And promise comes,
Held fast within each tightly fashioned
Bud,
Unfolded gently by the
Morning Sun.
And promise lives
In blossomed beauty that reflects its
Many-petaled God
And does not mourn the passing of its day
For blossoms born of
Hope
Know well their roots.

And God-love waits . . .

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

Joy . . .
That bursts and flames,
That pulses
With each living breath that newness takes
Is stilled . . .
Silenced . . .
By a pain that also lives
And breathes,
That throbs
And pulses
With a motion close akin to joy . . .
A joy-pain,
Tender —
Like a bruise that hurts to touch,
Purpled —
By a tightness that cannot find release outside of life.
Then comes a voice —
Quiet,
Gentle —
A look
Whose knowing depth unleashes frozen tears,
Whose touch spells
Words
And worlds
That parting cannot sever,
Whose hand leads
Onward,
Homeward,
Heartward
To a sense of peace,
Whose being is the
Promise
And the presence
Of a gentle God.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved

You fascinate my heart,
My God,
My being held in awe by all
You are,
Held in awe by god-love
So intense
And yet so tender,
Love
Embracing all my being without bruising,
Love that captivates my soul,
That captures what I am
And what I still can be
And holds it all within those godly arms
That love without control
And raise me up to see
The god-in-me
That’s mirrored in your face,
To know at last the wonder of your gaze
And read within the deep wells of your eyes
The utter fascination of your
Love
For me..

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

I see you, God,
reflected in the water of my life. . .
The lake of love
whose gentle waters
lap the ragged shores of fear. . .
The muddied waters of self-doubt
you sift and clear and fill
with all the wonder of your gaze. . .
Your knowing glance that plumbs
unfathomed oceans of my soul. . .
The puddled drops of laughter
and of tears
that image each new day that God-love gives.

I see you, God,
reflected in the eyes that light my world. . .
The wonder-eyes of childhood awe
that grasp the miracles that
knowledge cannot know. . .
The eyes of pain
whose wordless cry can pierce
the hardness of my stony heart. . .
Eyes that burn with sting of unshed tears
or dance the music of your song of joy. . .
The eyes of wisdom
of an ancient God
who speaks a promise
ever-new.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

Like the tender touch of
Ocean waves
Upon a sun-warmed beach,
Washing single grains of course-hewn sand with
Gentle strength
Born of ancient mystery,
Of hidden depths,
Carving living shapes into its
Pristine shores,
Drawn as by an
Ancient
Unknown
Force,
Leaving salt-washed grains to bask –
Alone –
Beneath the sun.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

I view with calm
The far horizon your love—
Reflecting jewel-like
The brilliance of a God’s great love
Or shrouded grey
With god-love’s hidden mystery.

But closer come
Your love roars
Wild and harsh;
High-rolling waves that threaten to subdue and overwhelm
My feeble self.

And closer still
Your love laps gently at my shore of being
And my timid heart
Like skittish gulls
Scurries to move beyond
The ever-widening circles of your love—
A love that finds at last
The arid sand
That is my heart.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

Peace
With gentle fingers
Plies the tender core of
Sadness
In my heart, and
Warmth
Steals through each
Cold
And
Silent
Fiber of my soul.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

You speak –
Not in words that ears of frailty can hear
But in utterances unique –
In words that call my name alone –
No other –
In hidden ways
That echo down the path of disbelief of self
And clear the clutter of a heart that doubts its worth.

You speak
In snatches of a song
Whose message shows
That heart has reached to heart
And touched the fiber of a cord
That twines my soul to something that I cannot grasp,
To someone whom I cannot name,
Recalling to my heart that all the
Somethings
And the someones
Of my life have been but
Moments
In the realness of Your
Word,
The realness that is
Love,
The presence that is
God.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

Cypress
swaying softly in
God’s gentle breath . . .
their summer dance
of praise. . .

Stretching arms aloft
in praise. . .
aching for the God
whose song is
Love …

Warmed. . .
caressed
by gentle rays of summer sun,
tender stroking of a
Gentle God . . .

Etched like ebony
against an evening sky
waiting
for the mantle-wrap of
night. . .

Whispering
to a star-filled night,
telling secrets of the
Gentle God
of day.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

Spiral your call,
My gentle God,
Into the chaos of my self,
My world.
Calm my heart,
My mind.
Linger
In the deep recesses of unknowing,
Filling wells of fear and doubt
With God-love balm
That soothes and heals
The jagged edges of self-doubt,
Wells of peace that overflow
Into our sharp and shattered world
And bring your soothing calm
To heal your wounded world.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

Shadows
slouch and grouch
across the earth,
prowl like frumpy, grumpy children,
searching for the
sun.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

Guarded by grim griffins carved in stone
Grimacing through stony teeth,
Snarling silent threats;
Fenced by sternly cut and harsh-shaped rows of hedge,
The green world waits—
Not warm and welcoming—
But sternly shaped by human whim,
A green whose hidden soul shouts
“Reach for God”
Silenced by the shears that
Shape sharp forms—
Cones,
Boxes,
Circles
Spiraled into ever-smaller rounds,
A world of green
Whose voice cannot escape an artist’s mold,
Whose soul,
In silent contrast to the Artist’s wild and color-flagrant world
Has ceased to grow.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

Breezes rumbling
through flowering trees
tumbling wild blizzards
of purple-petaled confetti
into mountain streams.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

we ponder —
somber —
on the mystery of
stars,
as stars peep down
and giggle —
glee-filled —
at our pompous
pride.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

My Sisters, I wish you Peace –
knowing that you and I are close to the Lord who first loved us.

He gave me life – I praise Him
He gave me faith – I praise Him
He gave me illness – I praise Him

He lifted me up when I fell in sin – I thank Him
He gave Himself to me in Eucharist – I love Him
He called me – I desired to follow – I desired greatly
He accepted me – I was delighted – I thank Him; I love Him
He gave me the courage to carry the crosses
He presented to me –
It was not easy – I did not smile,
but deep in my soul I knew He loved me
and I endured much with loving gratitude
He gave me Sisters – treasures I love – I praise Him
I begged to persevere
I grew in Love
I LOVE HIM NOW – I LONG TO LOVE HIM FOREVER

I wish you Peace and strong Faith to let your Love grow.
Peace!

Monica Joseph Steinfelt, OSF (deceased)

Ancient rocks . . .
Guarding secrets of an ancient past,
Hewn from mountains that have gazed
In silent awe
Upon the face of God,
Heard God=s muted whisper deep within
Its ancient heart
And shared its secrets with a
Little man
Whose heart had also known
The tender gaze of
God.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.

Women of yesterday,
I celebrate your echoes in my life,
And sing within my soul
The story and the power that is you . . .
Birthing the world of my
Today.
Breathing into me
Your blood of courage,
Your bone of strength,
Teaching me the secrets
Of your yesterday,
Of an Earth
That still was whole,
You who tilled the land,
Culling life from ancient soils
To nourish with its life
The life you bore,
Sinking roots deep, deep
Within the home of Earth,
Roots
That nurture in the darkness of the Past
The promise of a world to come.
Seeking worlds beyond the stars,
Groping,
Sometimes blind . . .
For dreams that only daring
Can contain,
You who held within your gaze,
The hidden beauty of
Desolate desert sands
And wild and tangled
Jungle growth.
You who knew the clear, unfathomed
Waters of the world
And sang in celebration and in awe
Of the power that they held,
Sculpting from the fertile clay of earth
A people
And a world
In which your beauty
And your hope . . .
Your stillness
And your grace

Mirror forth the image
Of my strong and gentle
Mother God.
Laughing loud
With strong and stalwart hearts
Your wisdom
From the yesterday of
What has been . . .
Your joy
At what your world’s today might hold,
Your fearless facing
Of tomorrow’s unknown morn.

Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

© 2007 Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia. Poetry for Prayer: Volume I. All rights reserved.