The Sister

Poem By Rolland Heiss

The hallowed convent halls have held her
In quiet repose for fifty years
Sometimes she wonders if it's been worth
All the struggle, sorrow, pain and tears

Her aged hands are warped from labor
In service to her beloved God
And thoughts arise in her weary mind
As she strolls along the esplanade

The holy see in Rome once praised her
Or at least the convent as a whole
For their ceaseless service to the poor
He said they've played a vital role

The thought brought joy to her weathered face
For the recognition did her good
But we shouldn't seek the praise of men
And of this the sister understood

Yet it helped to validate her life
As she, much like Thomas, has her doubts
But they come and go sparatically
On morning walks or midnight bouts

And mostly she is content with God
Although his glory she cannot see
Yet in patient service she awaits
The loving arms of eternity

Oh dear sister, if there is no God
I tell you now, you've not lived in vain
For you gave us hope when days were dark
And your seeds of kindness will remain.


Comments about The Sister

There is no comment submitted by members.

Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of HEISS

The Used To Be

What happens to our yesterdays?
Do they yet exist in time?
I should like to see the used to be
And relive again the rhyme

The Ghost Ship

A ghost ship rides the waves at night
But she is seldom seen
Save when the Captain lights the light
And sails 'er in to Aberdeen

My Rocking Horse

Beneath the moon she gallops
Fearless? Yes, and brave.
The rider boldly seeking
Kingdoms he may save.

Her Portrait

Her portrait hangs upon the wall
At the top of the winding stairs
And once her voice was heard to call
From these empty rooms and chairs

An Indian's Song

I hear the spirit singing
and I am very old
I know that he is bringing
a shelter from the cold.

The Appian Way

Your walls have crumbled down to dust
Your memory's in decay
While time records your earthly lust
with statues by the way