Poems

The whole universe is a symphony, without time or untimeliness; where everything is an eternal expression of joy; where only good is evidenced in us, in everyone, every day; where good much more abounds; where Life reigns.   Oh, my desire, Father, is to look upon this kingdom with Godlike sight! To see in all Your children Your image reflected and this glorious heaven where all abide.

Let my desire be a prayer, outstretched to touch Christ’s robe; an earnest faith that seeks the Savior from all ills, and, through God’s grace, finds healing. And so let all human yearning be transformed by Love, which shapes the hopes of men, and lifts us heavenward.

where would i rather be than here?  for where other than here can there be all—  all that can be sought, wanted, hoped for— where other than here.  .

“No loss! No loss!” the angel cried, “The gates of heaven are open wide, And pouring blessings on mankind Which sever fleshly ties. “Look up! Look up! Stop looking down! Our Master made earth-thorns a crown— His cry aloud through time resounds To sever fleshly ties.

Praying—with You— is praying with the light of Love: gratefully, meekly, in and with Mind; it’s seeing Your wisdom-from-above, watching with Love’s-eye view; it’s thinking of and loving You and Yours. Thus, with Your healing light, we find that fearful, sad beliefs all cease, for darkness can’t impede Your light.

Shake thyself from the dust; arise, and sit down, O Jerusalem: loose thyself from the bands of thy neck, O captive daughter of Zion.             — Isaiah 52:2 Isaiah cried to all who      have yielded to pain,           hopelessness, and sin,                when he urged,  Awake, O captive daughter of Zion,      shake thyself from the dust—           the Christ is here; salvation is at hand,                so rejoice! Rise up; expect healing.

How could I Your image bear In this hollow human frame, All alone in dark despair, And with Jacob for a name? Truth, my Life forevermore, In the twinkling of an eye, Change the man who, once before, Stole a blessing with a lie. Him I could not overthrow Wounded me at break of day, But I would not let him go, And he could not get away.

I pray, dear Father, that what is being heard is Your Word Your voice: The cadence, tone, inflection of Soul  guiding the reading of Your message this hour and shepherding this congregation of seekers to You. Amen.

Our Pastor shines Let me not step in front of the light           my most brilliant self                     will only make a shadow. Thoughts move the voice  so I simply pray to hear             and let the Father move my thoughts                     so only the Father’s Word is heard.

This path I tread .  .