Poems

Man dwells in ever-present Love. He does not go From here to there, nor travel to and fro, Leaving a point which anchors him below Or seeking for some freedom far above.

We are thankful, God, For all the wonder spread before us; Tears of gratitude come unbidden To eyes first dazzled By the brightness of Thy truth. Then gradually our vision clears, And glimpsing true creation we are blessed; The shadows vanish one by one From the scene before us: There is ever less shadow, ever more color; We see the rich hues of Thy love In the clear light of Truth.

Quick as the flash of anger came the heart's recoil. Aghast, I scanned the weapon I had used, and asked: "Is this my concept of the sword of Spirit? Will I never learn to trust the power of Truth?" I bowed My head.

The room is hallowed by its very aim, A refuge for the storm-tossed and depressed Who seek the Christly touch of him who came To kindle hope anew in every breast. I turn the key and open wide the door And breathe a psalm, the day's task to begin, The psalm that tells us God doth evermore Preserve all going out and coming in.

Though claims of dismal woe, of hate, of lack, Seem to confront us, ready for attack, Dark shapes of menace swiftly disappear Before the light of Love, which casts out fear. There is no bestial force to make man cower For he is panoplied with Spirit's power, Which from all threat of conflict gives release; Hence God's ideas forever live in peace.

Because the verdure is not seen, Hidden beneath the snow, No one can doubt that one day grass With emerald blades will grow. Because the trees do not bear leaves In winter of the year, No one can say that in the spring Green leaves will not appear.

Dread not to tread the solitary path; Love has passed through before you, triumph-crowned. Gird you with peace, and follow, shod with faith To find that where you walk is hallowed ground.

In learning God aright men are made free. Truth, like a symphony, bestirs mankind To seek divine acquaintanceship and find Love's workmanship at one with harmony; In Spirit's holy handiwork to see Perfection imaged; to behold in Mind Man's Godlike grace and sovereignty defined By Mind's dominion and its majesty.

Above the storm the missel thrush is singing, A challenge to the tempest in his song; Within my heart his joyous notes are ringing An angel message, "Child of God, be strong. " Above the sense of chaos and confusion Glad voices rise of those made whole and free: "The winds of God have swept away illusion, On wings of love Truth brings us victory.

Is this the feast, my Lord, these bitter herbs Of duty's sharp demands? Their taste disturbs My worldly ease, but promises a gain Beyond all dreams of pleasure or of pain. Is this the feast, this plain unleavened bread? It lacks sense satisfaction, and instead Is food that pleases not the carnal tooth: "Unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.