Poems

Afterward, we hear no more of the sturdy four who carried the palsied in his bed to the very roof to find complete, scientific proof of healing. Who will today explore and find their spiritual four (faith, hope, love, purity perhaps?) needed to take consciousness heaven-high and let Christ, Truth, uncover, break up the lie of sinning sense? In spite of matter's pain or press, spiritual sense knows Christ's power and man's free access.

David, to the chief Musician, Spoke of God who searches and who knows. God spoke to him in heartfelt, holy symbols.

"Faith is a song Before the dawn," A poet sang. I made my song In darkest night, A tremulous note From a straitened throat.

When I awake to a bright new day, I turn my thought to God and say: Let me serve as a lens so clear, For all to see that Love is here! Let me put self-will aside, Let me lose all foolish pride. Let my deeds go forth with grace, Show Your love upon my face.

I have strength, Abundant strength, That only God provides; And gaily on my course I run, with big and Joyous strides; I keep serene, and Know the peace Of thoughts from Love reflected, and Rise above all Earthly woes, to Find my joys Perfected.

I say unto You, "Thanks, God. " I proclaim Your goodness, I sing praises for Your wise direction.

They came into the garden on that darkest of nights, with torches flaring, swords bared, to take like a thief Christ Jesus, Son of God. Who could blame Peter for drawing, against the atrocity, his sword of outrage— for smiting the high priest's servant, taking off his ear? But the Master, with legions of angels at his command, gave himself up to his accusers.

Spiritual history has no woman waiting for birth, no Saviour needing to be recognized, no hour unclaimed by God. It has no man bearing hatred; no woman stopped at a tomb identified with God's Son.

Eating tasteless empty husks for years Took me into desperate starvation. I reached through veils of penitential tears To find the one and full, complete salvation.

I do not time travel to that great fount of living water— Love— for I, as living image, am travel free and time has for me no oppressive border. I cross no chasm of space for I dwell now in the living depth of Love itself wherein I safely rest, not as mere fragment of God, but as His living eternal reflection.