©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

image from churchofjesuschrist.org

Who knows and loves the Savior more
than a believing child?
His faith is fresh and innocent;
her spirit, meek and mild.

©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

image from churchofjesuschrist.org

When I am weakened by the pain,
the sorrow every life must bear,
I reach out for thy steadfast hand
and feel a sacred presence there.

©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

image from churchofjesuschrist.org

O Savior, thou art good to me.
Encircled in thine arms, I find
the salve for every weeping wound,
the balm to ease my troubled mind.

©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Malani Bulathsinhala

The magic of the universe
calls out to me from every star.
Beyond the moon, my dreams unfold
and carry me to worlds afar.

©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Maxime Dore on Unsplash

The parched soil drinks their holy blood.
They lay their bodies down like wine:
last dregs of fleeing innocence,
surrendered on the sacred vine.

©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

A wedge of years has crept between our hearts,
though we are of an age in days alone.
My waning health your self-esteem disarms,
for you absorb my limits as your own.

  ©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Jonathan Kemper on Unsplash

seeds of faith

Faith is a sacred gift in life,
a gift we seize or spurn.
The seeds are freely granted us;
the fruit is ours to earn.

©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

Image: The Dream, by Jacek Yerka

I draw my sleep beneath a golf ball moon,
where verdant trees sprout tiny, ticking clocks.
Deep waters hold me close in rippled arms,
enfold me in a soft, white bed of rocks.