What matters most / Precious little angels

We are often reminded of the priorities in your lives. We have an awakening that relationships and God give true meaning to our existence. What matters most and Precious little angels are two poems that put our priorities and purpose into perspective.

What matters most

What matters most,
Competes for time on our schedules
Like a client who makes an appointment.
They jockey for position
And request private audiences,
Primacy and priority status.

What matters most,
Believes in the seniority of faith,
The value of the home
And intermittently,
Issues demands to be moved
To the front of the line.

What matters most,
Is discontent with quality time,
For it serves to rationalize
The crumbs of attention
Thrown in their direction.
The left over morsels of time
Are insufficient,
For they do not meet the minimum
Daily requirements
Of our obligations.

What matters most,
Views a pedestal
And questions what occupies
The place which was reserved
For the critical elements
In our lives.

What matters most,
Tugs at our conscience,
Looks at us with solemn eyes,
Begs us to come home early,
To love God,
And treat our neighbors
As we wish to be treated.

What matters most,
Addresses our hearts,
Awakens feelings of responsibility,
For they know,
It is character over credentials,
And fulfillment of potential,
That grows our spirit.

What matters most,
Knows it is not power or possessions,
But the heartfelt confessions
To a Holy God that secures our eternity;
That relationships give us strength
And add seasoning and significance
To the caliber of our lives.

Copyright © 2001 Orlando Ceaser

Precious little angels               

Precious little angels

We’ll miss you tonight.

We were not prepared for your flight.

Our routine was to read and recite,

Say your prayers and kiss you good night.

Handsome and lovely ones don’t be afraid,

For Heaven will stage a parade.

We asked for assistance and when we prayed,

For the favorite games you played.

Precious little angels know that we feel,

The pain of the carnage is real.

You are a bright light that some tried to steal;

And the hurt will take time to heal.

The horror tries to exceed our faith;

Fear leaves us stunned in our tracks;

In very hard times we need our faith;

To gain strength when bad things attack.

Precious little angels, the last embrace

The memories of games of chase,

Must comfort us until we can replace

Your picture with your smiling face.

Copyright © 2012 Orlando Ceaser

www.watchwellinc.com

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