Poems

"Thou Son of David, have mercy on me" ( Luke 18:38 ) Enlightened thought of Mind, now speak to my blind eyes. Teach them to seek God's image in my neighbor; view man, child, bird, beast, and flower through the lens of Spirit, magnify intelligence: let no love die for friend or foe by dark abuse of motive, word or deed.

Wreathe my house with mistletoe; warm my heart with strength to go to my neighbor in his need bringing the Christ, Truth, to feed his spiritual hunger, heal whatever hurt may be revealed. Deck the halls and light the lamps of perfect understanding.

It must have been quite a usual day for everyone else in that small town when Mary— marvelously spoken to as no woman ever on earth before— tremblingly received what would come to pass for a world beyond any world she knew. It must have been quite a usual day when—later on— from that same town someone who faithfully had waited there until he was told " Now begin— " strode without any fanfare at all down from his hills to Galilee's shore.

Be silent, O all earth; Love speaks! At last my heart is hearing. The Word has penetrated walls of doubt, of fearing, encompassed a hungry city, brought in food.

ideas emerge fulfill ascend without the need to begin or end Richard Henry Lee.

To dwell on time would hinder The achievement Because each step, Each foothold, And each handhold Leads upward onto firmer ground . Then gently, almost imperceptibly, An inward sense of confidence Starts to supplant the jagged, time-sense fear.

One dry leaf, how it clings! Curling in upon itself— beckoning— but I will turn away. One cannot grasp at memories and still be free to cup the promise of a bud.

Have we sensed the challenges he faced—brave Enoch, when the world, youthy and green, had scent of valleys, saw the distant hills transmuted into gold-leaf splendor, tracing the rich variety of life? Enoch viewed exciting glints of it. We do not know how much he shunned the clamor of a vain and sensuous world.

Through prayer he frees himself from hidden jungle snares that would destroy. Through prayer he shelters those who choose to walk with him his proven path.

The precious sons of Zion, citizens of the city of God comparable to fine gold to the highest standard of value— who dares to rate them as earthen pitchers products of an inferior hand? Have we not all so transgressed? Have we not all miscalled ourselves and others, pointing out the traces of clay that only we can pretend to see? Could God who with loving care forms each individual son in the image of His own perfection find any flaw? Does He see brittle, fragile clay which may be disfigured and destroyed? How could He? Spirit, Mind, Truth, Life, and Love can see only these reflected in all His precious sons! Margaret Tsuda.