Poems

Even though we are little more than the “two or three gathered together”  we have found here today in this small Society, a surprising clearing in the woods, where beams of God’s natural light pouring down, show us how holiness is something unnameably simple. Something happens.

A poem.

Oh, lovely sight to see     the flowers of youth — In all the flush and pride     of beauty tending,  (Like the young sunflower to the Day— God bending) Push toward the Sun of Righteousness    and Truth. A heart unsullied by the stains of time, Unburdened by the sins     of many years, An offering far more meet to God     appears Than one that hath grown hoar with  guilt and crime.

The nothingness of error is the somethingness of good? How nothing equals something I have never understood. But now it’s been explained to me.

Rising with the hymns we sing, Raising tributes, Love’s psalms— In our hearts, Soul’s songs Each marked with palms Of the Christ’s coming. Rejoicing through the shade of lies, We find Life’s love  and rise.

The Bible Lesson is God’s musical composition. As I read His music, may I play it as He would want it to be— “Undivorced from truth, uncontaminated and unfettered by human hypotheses, and divinely authorized.

Be like the storm thrush, he said perched in a treetop waving wildly in the wind singing for joy the spotted bird voices truth: no roar, assault, nor circumstance can take away your Soul-created buoyancy open your wings      reach up  and let the tempest lift you—  blow you to a treetop  where you hold on and  sing the glory of the view — Nancy Humphrey Case.

Love under and over, within and without  Lifting and filling, my white sail taut  My mast bends—though anchored strong  Through meekness it lends Love’s primal song  Humble rudder, Love’s still small voice  Mortals need not shudder, immortals rejoice!  The wind may blow, the earth may quake  My ship lies low in Love’s pure wake There’s a shout, Land ahoy!  My sail still taut, girded with joy  Ship ready for anchor—sail to be folded and stored  Is destiny met, do I pull for the shore? Yonder the vale, verdant pasture  Will this wind fill my sail, will my rudder discover?  Will I hear the call—that still, small voice?  Will my mast stand tall, and is there a choice? Peace, be still  Not my will  With God at the helm, a magnificent source  A spiritual realm, Love sets my course. — Rod Wagner.

I had this once-beautiful fern  hung in a dark corner  by a dark window.  Now years old—long and thin  it was neglected.

Here, now, and ever each a real-Life-expression held timelessly safe, inseparable from good; complete, free, and fearless so beautifully sustained and maintained no falsities flaw or confuse, disturb or distress; no damage is done, no harm can come  just Spirit’s still, balanced being, Mind’s all-wise always knowing and Soul’s sweet controlling each a blessing, blessed, beloved, a priceless, loving light-beam, harmonious, holy, whole, where only Love governs. This grace ever present, true and proven His angels in charge, His kingdom come each in, of, and with Love, ever at-one, completely, perfectly, divinely done; lovingkindness the law, our awe and our all.