My Little Wooden Comfort Cross
In quiet pews of hallowed light,
Where candles flicker, soft and bright,
I find my place, my soul at rest,
With my comfort cross pressed to my chest.
Its wood is worn from many prayers,
A humble sign of love and cares,
I hold it close as Mass begins,
A symbol strong of faith within.
Our priest intones the ancient rite,
And in my heart, the words ignite,
My fingers trace the sacred wood,
In every breath, God’s grace is understood.
When kneeling low in silent plea,
This little cross, it steadies me,
A bridge to Him, a simple way,
To feel His presence as I pray.
In joys and sorrows, there it stays,
A quiet friend through all my days,
My little comfort cross of peace,
Where fears subside and doubts release.
As bells resound and choirs sing,
I grip the cross, my offering,
For in its touch, my faith takes flight,
A whispered prayer in morning light.
So, to every Mass, without fail,
I bring it with me through the veil,
This little cross, a comfort true,
That keeps me close, O Lord, to You.
© 2024 - the247catholic.blogspot.com
If using this poem, please give credit to
the247catholic.blogspot.com
Thank You.