Poems

John the Baptist who baptized Jesus and heard the voice from heaven, imprisoned in a moment of uncertainty, sends his disciples to ask,  Are you the Christ, the one we’ve been waiting for?   Silent, the Master does his work heals the tormented the suffering the unclean. Then the answer comes:  Go and show John again  those things which you hear and see:  the blind receive their sight the lame walk the lepers are cleansed the deaf hear the dead are raised up and the meek in spirit  have the gospel preached to them— and blessed are they who are not offended in me.

God, You are so gentle, Your timing, so kind;  Your order is perfect— You’re Love divine!  Your power is omni; Your presence is true;  Your knowing complete;  Your action flows through. You, Lord, the light,  I, Yours, the beam.

My Father-Mother speaks: “You are Mine. ” Perfectly conceived in Mind, Meticulously drawn by the hand of Love, Inscribed on the Spirit-paper of purity, And embossed by Soul.

You, Jesus, were speaking to Jairus, healing his daughter, knowing all along that what you said and did would also be for me and mine and all. And still today, your divine with-us presence comes to put fear and all doubt out.

Daniel’s challenge: a den of lions,  the pride of power, the untamed manes of animal prowess.   Today I seem to face them, too: Injustice, illness, anger, sorrow— each one lurking near; each one a fatal error.

what a thing it is to discover that you were never ever in a day responsible for  the revolutions or distributions of the world  o sweet witness  hush be still behold  consider the steady hands at the helm  divine Love “kindling the stars, rolling the worlds”  1   the whole world (and you) minutiae to magnitude  in Love’s everlasting loving arms —Joni Overton-Jung  1 Mary Baker Eddy, Miscellaneous Writings 1883–1896, p. 332.

I’m searching for my Promised Land Where milk and honey flow Where I with God walk hand in hand And children safely grow I long to end my slavery To weakness, want, and sin To see the part in my Red Sea And freedom from within On bended knee I make my vow And gratefully, humbly weep Although I don’t know when or how .  .

It was a stable, not a mansion It was a star, not a parade of dignitaries It was quietude, not a party of notables It was animals, not the masses  And yet,  It was safety It was protection It was a divinely provided sanctuary It was exactitude It was divine placement It was Love’s gift to humanity  It was the coming of the Christ  It was the magnitude of divinity recognized It inspires our story, also, if we live in stable  quietness, allowing the Christ-idea to  animate our thinking and actions  And that is bringing the Christmas story daily in consciousness It is not allowing the noise in the inn,  the human story of mortality,  to dominate our thought  It is Christmas to be seen and felt  It is seeing our divine oneness dawning It is staying out of the inn and in the stable —Melissa Baker.

How near is God to me? So near there is no near Only Her presence, eternally here.   How deep is God’s knowledge of me? So deep there is no deep Only Her infinite knowing, complete.

Shadrach,  Meshach,  Abednego,  “the form of the fourth,” 1 and me,  and you .