Poems

When each blade of grass is distinct, when every hair of your head counts, when law's jot and tittle hold import, and the joints and marrow are searched, See Mary Baker Eddy, Science and Health , p. 70; see Luke 12:7; see Matt.

Lord, I long to be more like Moses, Whose obedience was not displaced. Teach me how to live Your law, And know You face to face.

When I am still and listening , I hear the immortal message breathed through the ages, as the call of my own name .

As petals open to the light with plan and purpose stirred, my thought can be in posture right, responsive to God's Word. Not mere wish, or idle pose, it shows me good to do; for just as beauty comes to the rose, Truth uplifts my view.

What were the words your finger traced on Temple courtyard ground? See John 8:1-11 . Words comforting the one accused?

What am I searching for? A soft, warm cushion of repose in matter? Or the glitter-glow of fleeting fame to illumine a desolate and dreary land? A floating far-off cloud that I can dream on? Or a place of safety built upon the sand? Love will direct to paths of true fulfillment, where ease or pride or sleep no more holds sway; where my chastened heart can open wide to challenge the shallow dreams I cherished yesterday. And so I find the law of Love's fulfilling, imparting only good which all may share, where man is found complete as God's reflection, with Love alone his motivation there.

I believed I was encased in matter-body imperfect, disproportioned, limited. "If only the world—and I—could see through the facade, love me for who I really am.

Jesus instructed Whereby to heal. He knew The Christ, God's ideal, Ruled supreme In him And revealed His forever unity with God— God and His perfect man As one in Love sealed! "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.

( Reading the parable of the prodigal son See Luke 15:11-32 . one day, I saw in the elder brother's dull rectitude, my own.

the joy, the sense of belonging, of naturalness, of family, peace, purpose, place, that's how we feel each time we discover something of the fact that man lives in Spirit, that he is Spirit's image and likeness— loved, loving, lovable, safe, spiritual, whole, eternal. prodigal wanderings— of a moment, a day, a week, a tendency to make the "matters" of Spirit of less importance— fade to nothing, and a sense of the continuity and reality of spiritual being dawns.