Poems

At times when days seem burdened and oppressed, Love's angel visitants throng in to me, To calm the winds of conflict and unrest And still the waves on life's tumultuous sea. "The battle is not yours but God's.

" Father , forgive them," was the Master's prayer When buffeted, misunderstood, reviled. His love could brook no recompense in kind, But rather was his thought so reconciled To good that he could rise above the lack Of love that sprang from groundless prejudice, And with compassion meet the base attack Of those too blind to see God's handiwork.

True peace is not a thing to buy or win: It is already present as a fact In spite of raging war, disease, and sin, In spite of storm, earthquake, and cataract. The Principle of order has not failed To manifest its peace since time began; "In the beginning" means that peace is hailed As basis for creation's perfect plan.

" Tarry ," he said, "at Jerusalem, Until ye be endued With power from on high. " Tarry there? Where pride of power' And power of priestly pride, Aided by Roman soldiery, held sway? Where tyranny of Pharisee Vaunted itself above omnipotence? "Do not depart," he said, "But wait the Father's promise.

O Love divine, Who guides our stumbling feet On homeward paths returning, Forgive us now, we pray, For our wayward steps today, For hasty words and thoughts unkind, For foolish fears and tired tears, For love we failed to give— And take. Forgive us now For thy name's sake, And teach us to forgive.

How can I help my brother man To see the nothingness of sin While I condemn him in my heart And fail to guard or discipline My thoughts? What right have I to judge Another's actions by my own? To see man as God's perfect child Will free us both, and Christ enthrone.

The giant redwood stretches toward the sky Its green-leafed boughs that speak a silent prayer For light and warmth of sunlight. Thus do I Uplift my thought above a sense of care, Out of the mortal dream into the clear White light of Truth, wherein no error dwells.

Help me to glory in Thy praise And not the praise of man, To turn from worldly codes, to love Thy precepts, live Thy plan. Thus, for Thine approbation, Lord.

Serene I trust in Love divine. And in this trust fear has no part; Freed from its bands the grace is mine Of a restored and tranquil heart.

We are the children of God's tender care, Embraced forever in His steadfast love; This is the love His sons and daughters share. We are the children of God's tender care, Each one a precious child and precious heir, Receiving every good gift from above.