"How are you?"
friends ask you
daily;
God tells us
how we are,
how man is.
How is God's son?
Shining and quenchless,
steadfast, pure,
is how Mind made him
out of His light—
His radiant one.
Through the shadowless
universe
of Love man moves,
eternal star.
God made him bright—
a winking ray
in the riotous dark,
a fearless beam
in the stuttering night . . .
You are God's son,
and right now
the light of health—
Love's incandescence—
fills your face,
for Truth's glow
suffuses man.
Yes, His Word
burns in us:
my friend, look deep,
we're luminous.
How are you then?
Daily
inextinguishable.
Since Mind is
I am
that I am
you are
what you are—
His brilliance,
His agelessly, deathlessly
fresh idea.
