Poems

in the dark  of night with pain encroaching   a light-filled whisper wings through the wall of shadows:  “When we learn  that error is not real,  we shall be ready for progress. ”  1   the question beckons: am i ready? am i ready for progress?  and suddenly i am awake: yes!  i am ready!  and so despite  insistent clamorings  i turn with focused fervency to give complete consent to God  (in whom error could never be real) who i know has answered  all things has never not been present  has ordained my very being  has consecrated every precious thing  and suddenly  without notice, impasse gives way and i am awash  in All-ness  and here, right here, divine Love carries on Her unhurried, unharried  undaunted dawn of day divider 1  Mary Baker Eddy, Science and Health   with Key to the Scriptures, p.

We probably will never know precisely            what the seven devils were            the Master had cast out those years ago. Or if it had been she who brought the oil           to Simon’s house, perfuming Jesus’ feet—           feet washed with tears and dried with her own hair.

What do I need  to listen to God? How do I hear what Love speaks?   Does Love need to  turn up the volume   to drown out  the world noise  clamoring outside  my window  or claiming to be  my thinking?  Does Love need to be loud? Not in the world’s way.   Love is like  someone standing  in the room with you,  still and quiet,  until you see  that they were  always there.

When will man pass through the open gate of Christian Science into the heaven of Soul, into the heritage of the first born among men? Truth is indeed “the way. ” —Mary Baker Eddy,  Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures,   p.

What is this cell of misery? And what are the walls that incarcerate? Are they not thoughts of fear, injustice, loneliness, inadequacy, hopelessness, confinement, worry, and self? Is the confinement within walls— or is it in me? Do I strike out with frustration,  anger, resentment? Or do I reach out and up .  .

I have a new plow now and a crop I can count on. The market is full, and the produce is plenty.

perhaps you like Elijah  have found yourself running for your life running from your life huddled in a cave thinking you are alone that all is for naught that you have fallen short might as well pack it in shut down .  .

After a storm makes itself known, God sends a sign— a rainbow. His promise of fruition commands the sky.

Early in the morning,                                 inspiration from God can come in all kinds of ways.   Swimming lap after lap, prayers flowing,                   lifting my thought to divine heights—                                     knowing God, divine Love, the one Mind,     ever present, embracing His spiritual offspring, His ideas—you, me, and all.

God’s promises  arrive completely formed and fulfilled. Promises of Life, God-guided gifts, like the seed, arrive with all needs supplied.