Poems

Sober, ever vigilant, Protecting what I best express, I stand a watchman at the gate Of holy consciousness. Turning every thought away That comes pleading for lack or excess, I stay contented—safe within My holy consciousness.

Banish discord of the unkind word; muffle the envious friction of belief that one's pure light is dimmed by another's glow.

I really wasn't enjoying the show playing on my stage of consciousness— sad, depressing, even frightening, and with a cast of characters no one could love. "The show must go on.

Each day I try to search (a search within myself) for a deeper sense of love. A love so discerning that it turns to God even as human will shouts, "This is the only way!" A love so all-pervasive that it draws on divine Love to reach out tenderly with healing thought not just to the near and dear, but even to those called "untouchables" in our world today.

Take, eat: you are no longer offered milk, but meat. You are no longer babes, but men.

Sunfalls of dim mortal belief would cast deepening shadows across the pages of our passage— We must lift them higher into the light of the morning star to read our homeward way! Paul Edward Gingell.

When we self-center our lives, we absent ourselves from humanity. We are alone, invisible in proportion to our selfishness.

Misunderstandings bitter tears excuses, fears crumble on the table of the unselfed heart.

God's truth flashes before us, and we are transformed— more godly than before. We are given only what we can bear— Moses saw a burning bush, Paul was flooded with the light.

I'm learning we can escape the confines of these eyes and ears and erase the dossier of limitations and fears they've compiled in self-consciousness— even reverse the fatal conviction based on it. The key: like sunlight and sun, man and God are ever at one.