All Praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars; in the heavens you have made them, bright, and precious, and fair.

All praise be yours, my Lord, through Brothers wind and air, and fair and stormy, all the weather’s moods, by which you cherish all that you have made.

All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Water, so useful, humble, precious and pure.

All praise be yours, my Lord, through Brother Fire, through whom you brighten up the night. How beautiful is he, how cheerful! Full of power and strength.

All praise be yours, my Lord, through our Sister Mother Earth, who sustains us and governs us, and produces various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.

All praise be yours, my Lord, through those who grant pardon for love of you; through those who endure sickness and trial. Happy are those who endure in peace, by You, Most High, they will be crowned.

All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Death, from whose embrace no mortal can escape. Woe to those who die in mortal sin! Happy those she finds doing your will! The second death can do them no harm.

Praise and bless my Lord, and give him thanks and serve him with great humility.

St. Francis of Assisi

Late have I loved you, Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you!

Lo, you were within,
but I outside, seeking there for you,

and upon the shapely things you have made
I rushed headlong – I, misshapen.
You were with me, but I was not with you.

They held me back far from you,
those things which would have no being,
were they not in you.

You called, shouted, broke through my deafness;
you flared, blazed, banished my blindness;

you lavished your fragrance, I gasped; and now I pant for you;
I tasted you, and now I hunger and thirst;

you touched me, and I burned for your peace.

St. Augustine

O sacred head, surrounded by crown of piercing thorn!

O bleeding head, so wounded, reviled and put to scorn!

Death’s pallid hue comes over you the glow of life decays, yet angel hosts adore thee and tremble as they gaze.

I see thy strength and vigor all fading in the strife, and death with cruel rigor, bereaving thee of life;

O agony and dying!

O love to sinners free!

Jesus, all grace supplying, O turn thy face on me.

In this thy bitter passion, Good Shepherd, think of me, with thy most sweet compassion, unworthy though I be,

beneath thy cross abiding forever would I rest, in they dear love confiding and with they presence blest.

St. Bernard of Clairvaux

I first saw God when I was a child, six years of age.

the cheeks of the sun were pale before Him,

and the earth acted as a shy girl, like me.

Divine light entered my heart from His love
that did never fully wane,

though indeed, dear, I can understand how a person’s
faith can at time flicker,

for what is the mind to do
with something that becomes the mind’s ruin:

a God that consumes us
in His grace.

I have seen what you want;
it is there,

a Beloved of infinite
tenderness.

St. Catherine of Siena

Just these two words He spoke changed my life,

Enjoy Me!.

What a burden I thought I was to carry, a crucifix, as did He.

Love once said to me,

“I know a song, would you like to hear it?”

And laughter came from every brick in the street and from every pore in the sky.

After a night of prayer,

He changed my life when He sang,

“Enjoy Me!”

St. Teresa of Avila