Poems

Five miles high, the captain says: "Greenland ahead. " We watch in wonder as it drifts slowly into view.

It was in the eighth grade— My Dad left And seemed forever gone away. The departure sudden, Without all the things I wanted to say: How much I loved.

A feather deeply bent on rocky shore, borne down by blasting wind— How does it remain fixed, unmovable? It is white, light—even weightless yet does not yield. It will not be pried loose.

Angels thrive Between the line of our living.

Radiant thoughts on holy wings Have made my troubled midnight bright with peace. God's Mother-love, with angel-touch, Restores my hope and thankful joy.

The hill was covered with sparkling snow, Fresh, fallen just that day, Pristine, but for one set of footprints, Which to the top made their way. What was it about this winter postcard That made me stop and think? It was recalling the Master's "Follow thou me"— A command now crystal clear.

Sometimes When thought is clear The one dimension of matter's universe fades. And the fully dimensioned infinitude of God's universe Appears As light-filled reality— Complete, The very outcome of God's being.

No matter where I am I can hear the word of God: I AM. Wherever I may be His word comes gently to awaken me, To dispel mists, mental haze, Enlighten my passage through the mortal maze.

Still within, God's voice is heard. A symphony of thoughts plays beauty there.

When all the poems are written And all the songs have echoed Around the earth times seven And creatures pause for wisdom, We'll hear a voice within us That defines art and nature— God's own voice so sweetly Spreading His love over all In songs of joy and rhythm, Thoughts that make us all one.