It’s Up to Me
©2024 Susan Noyes Anderson
image by Unsplash+ in collaboration with Getty Images
It’s up to me to live my days
in sunlit hues or shady haze.
Though circumstance vies for control,
I chart the weather in my soul.
I am an LDS poet, a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Making these LDS poems (“Mormon” poems) available to others was one of my main reasons for creating this poetry site. People frequently asked me, “Do you have a poem for this…?” It seemed easier to place them all on a website where everyone could find exactly what they needed. Feel free to use these LDS poems in talks, lessons, programs or the like. Do be sure to include full copyright information on every hard or internet copy. Please email a request for permission before using one of my LDS poems. For internet use, a link back to this site is required. Thanks, and enjoy your visit!
FINDING THE POEM YOU WANT: As you scroll through this section, read each snippet sample (usually the first four lines) to get a feel for the poem’s content. When you find something you like, click “CONTINUE READING” to view the entire poem.
It’s up to me to live my days
in sunlit hues or shady haze.
Though circumstance vies for control,
I chart the weather in my soul.
Some men shall rise to everlasting burnings.
Celestial glory is the prize they seek.
Others will bow to worldly praise and guidance,
esteeming things that render spirits weak.
He approaches the podium, earnest gaze,
blue eyes bedimmed by gentle haze,
to speak of lasting things and true,
pure testimony shining through.
Belief is a garden our hearts choose to grow.
Hope is the rich ground we need.
It takes testing and tilling, feeding and filling
to raise up the truth that we seed.
Born of God’s love, we are born into love;
then love is born in us, if we are wise.
Good seeds are given, but it’s ours to plant them,
to raise them underneath uncertain skies.
Today, this long-awaited day,
such bright son-light emerged!
A sacred purpose was fulfilled
as heaven and earth converged.
The years sit heavy on my back,
this face well-mapped by trails of pain.
These eyes, two tunneled railroad tracks,
are loath to bear the coming train.
Renew in me a righteous spirit, Lord,
a valiant spirit with a willing sword.
Make of me more than I alone can be,
a living oak with strong limbs raised to thee.