Poems

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.

He speaks so softly of His love; a heartfelt petal soft beneath my feet Running water, fresh to quench my thirst Strength and hope  to meet my every need He whispers in my night of gloom. Triumphant tones obliterate illusion’s thrall— “His angels bring release.

This grace-filled sanctuary, Love’s domain, rejects aggressive dreams of mortal sense, its doors forever closed to what would veil the cleansing presence of Truth’s clear light. Bathed in this light no dream of sickness reigns, no sin nor suffering sense nor fear can claim to be.

Let us lose all complication And confusion worse confounded, Nameless fears and agitation If by challenges surrounded We can pray to God our Father, “Open now our eyes to see” Not some complex threat but rather Christ’s sublime simplicity.  —Mike Eldridge.

If, clasping hands together on your chest, You turn your back on all the lights that shine And crouch, and bow your head, and stay depressed— You then might think, “This darkness here is mine. ” But what if you stand up and turn around?  Now lift your head and face toward the light,  And stretch yourself on tiptoe off the ground— The shadow that you cast is out of sight.

my Father paints my consciousness— full-formed, intact, complete. I can have no thought of sickness, of accident, defeat.

Become aware—the kingdom is within, It's not dependent on an outer state, Nor if we're rich or poor, or fat or thin. Although it's not where there is fear or hate.