Easter 4 - Poem by Liza Sud
Only God is in every grass blade -
May I see Him in her, peruse?
As she grew from fleck of dust there,
As how now she exudes juice.
Show it to me, God, I'm pleading!
Or I never can see the grass!
Yes I knew it, but to repeat it
I could never learn how or grasp.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You