Angels, Known and Loved
©2022 Susan Noyes Anderson
Photo by Dingzeyu Li on Unsplash
I never felt strong stirrings
about angels in the past.
Their role for me was limited
and, by me, rashly cast.
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.
I never felt strong stirrings
about angels in the past.
Their role for me was limited
and, by me, rashly cast.
Photo by Lucas George Wendt on Unsplash
Life leaves its mark on everyone:
a bruise, a scrape, a scar.
But none of these define us.
There is more to who we are.
We cannot alter circumstance;
God only holds that power.
We cannot stop or start the rain
that falls on every flower.
It is not ours to shift the winds
of fortune, foul or fair.
Nor can we pick the troubles
we find easiest to bear.
Because of Christ, we know a love
that fills the earth and sky–
a selfless and redeeming love
the world cannot deny.
Because of Him, what’s wrong on earth
will, one day, be made right.
His path is ours to understand:
the Way, the Truth, the Light.
Art by Simon Dewey
We hear at times a distant voice,
distilled upon the heart:
“I have a work for you, my child,
a masterwork of art.”
Soon or late, each soul must learn
how quickly the whole world can turn
upon its axis, in a flash,
as long-held dreams rain down in ash.
We do not see thee;
we are blind, and yet
we feel thy hand.
Beauty is in the simple things
that ease into a willing heart:
Dusk falls, then calls forth starling wings
while sun and moon paint works of art.
The Savior’s life was lived in prayer,
a custom born of love and need.
So many pains were His to bear,
so many causes His to plead.