Poems

The earth-weights of time and space would waylay and rob me of my peace and joy and love in the rush and crush and push of self-centered life style— but, wait, my soul, upon your God. Be still: then the melodies of Soul, with their cadences countless, sound the depths of the silence of my heart, drawing forth the pulsating, vital Christ treasures only the Mind named Love can impart.

"Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God. " ( Matthew 5:8 ) No need for waiting.

Like the Psalmist, who sang, "The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof," let me see all environed in blessings, walking in a living land, no ugliness or death— only the beauty of the living God, made plain at every step. And let me accompany with undaunted song the declaring heavens, the rejoicing hills.

God clothes us all With ribbons of light: The lilies so tall The stars of the night Waters with whitecaps And mountains with snow The perfume of pine sap When forest winds blow Sunshine following as Wild storm clouds cease Child crowned with laughter Old faces with peace. Each clothed with the glory Of God's constant care (True Genesis story) All good, everywhere.

Like a rocket I wait on mental launching pad for Mind's healing command. With every passing moment I listen more closely for the final countdown before takeoff.

Comes sudden summons to the day, do you silence buzzer/bell and contemplate the inert shell, slack sack of bones, that must be set upon its feet with will starched stiff enough to meet the rigors of the day? Or, do you take a moment to recall that God made man, as He made all, and contemplate for just a minute His universe—and know you're in it? The radiance of Soul lights each dawn— Truth's unfoldment waits, just past that yawn. Oh, the fresh rewards for opened eyes! This is God's day; don't put it off.

When suffering sense would cause despair, I seek relief through healing prayer. Then clamor of material sense Heeds Christ's command, "Get thee hence"! Torment of fear gives way to peace, As Spirit's allness brings release.

Good morning, self! Greet your creator (He's pleased with you, you know). Let this waking second beckon you; drop night's cocoon and feel the freeing dawn-flight that's  yours.

Gratitude (yes) for the opportunity to expand my sense of love beyond self. If the love behind a healing is confined to self, that sense of love is incomplete.

Consider Peter. That fisherman, Used to rough waves, rough men.