Poems

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.

Feeling left out of good, a trifle down and blue? Take Jesus at his word: God's lovingkindness includes you. No need to press nose to windowpane, wishing you had what others do.

"I must be on Molokai again. I must be on Molokai," I blinked as dark clouds raced across the early morning sky.

Pen poised, words whirling— tumbling like dominoes, landing askew. A pair here.

"Judge not," our Master said, "that ye be not judged. "   Matt.

We gathered at the doorstep when we heard that he was there, So many that we could not be received. But he was gracious to the crowd and preached the Word of God, And those with open hearts and minds believed.

Slow flow of sap in silent bough— winter's springtime present now! Slow grow of shoot in winter earth— outbreak of wonder at rebirth! Slow snow like blossom on the wing— winter's accolade to spring! Show! Show! through longest winter night— perpetual alchemy of Light! "Jesus said.

Sometimes I believe it's all up to me, avoiding defeat or gaining victory. Emptiness fills me, fear settles with a chill, as I realize the limits of my own human will.

Not as in a stadium roaring with rowdy calls, which glumly silent falls when the team stumbles; But in prayer and in life, show me the lasting cheer You will. Not a cheer that rumbles with delight when things go right, then grumbles in defeat when life seems not so sweet.

What am I doing here? I asked this of me. This can't be the place I'm supposed to be.