Poems

Bright green shoots pushing through soil— young thoughts working their way up through worldliness around them, in spite of atmosphere pollution, hail of condemnation— impelled by that within which responds to Life-energy, Love-warmth, Truth-light. Pull at them to speed the process? pry apart the shoots to see what's coming? Sure destruction that way! Better just to shine—unite with rays that draw them up— and watch the growing! Gloria Novak Christena.

Be with me now; the days grow dark, O Lord. Fluting of birds falls faint upon the ear; Stairways soar skyward, outlines blur.

"God loves you," Historical Sketches by Clifford P. Smith, p.

During one dark night, when danger threatened, with help nowhere in sight, when dawn seemed farther than eternity away, you came, and brought the saving Comforter to my troubled thought, voicing its message with soothing calm, till I felt the power of Truth's healing balm, and the mortal sense of stress vanished from my consciousness, freeing me from hopeless fears of jeopardy. (Ah, false fears! Foibles of frail humanity, that vanish with the night and disappear into oblivion!) Because you brought Truth's radiant light to me, during one dark hour, I now can face life's challenges fearlessly— leaning on His power.

What shall endure with me despite duress? Not static disbelief Nor shuttered sadness; But holdfast held in reaching out To plunge in deeper soil with pliant root, Indrawing essence within Life's energy, And surfacing with breath of exploration. Endurance? Let it be continuance of curling tendril, Or leafs appearance: Soul's signature of growth Which cracks the concrete with its fission; And gives to Love its rightful power and tenure.

Yes. It's true I wrote I was in the island of Patmos, Since that is where they exiled me; But more truly I was in the Spirit on the Lord's day— Timeless day of unfolding reality; Of enfolding Love, More real than stubborn barrenness of Patmos; Of upholding Truth, More concrete far than adamant of heart That banished me to Patmos.

More blessed he than flesh-oriented Thomas, who, leaning not on the senses' reassurance and fingered proof, believes. Geoffrey J.

Pray deep, pray deep For all who sleep, Dreaming the dream Of evil days that seem— Yet never are! Prayer deep as Truth can wake Each dreamer, break His dark fantasy of woe. And lo, Open his eyes to the sun.

To see another's imperfection Means our thinking stands correction; For we're not seeing the spotless image, But the counterfeit of God's reflection. Esther M.

To love the Lord my God With all my heart and All my soul and All my mind; all this—first great command— I'll do alone, myself, here, now, Beneath the starry vault of heaven, in my chair, beneath Some spreading leafy thing Walk softly in my thoughts and sing A hymn of praise and gratitude to God, the King. This is my own church; This is where it must begin.