Poems

May the dove of Science be heard in my land. May I heed the heavenly singing and open my window—take in hand the healing of its winging.

From distant lands, traveling by different routes, impelled by diverse needs and circumstances, we, who have reached this central core of clarity, this Science of Christ, are joined together in the greatest of all causes: to heal the world. If we have learned enough to care (having ourselves been healed, redeemed, and blessed abundantly), to give the cup, to break the bread, to bind the open wound, to share the Comforter, to heal, our strength is formidable.

They urged me not to go Seeing how much worse I'd grown And all that I had lost. They said there was no hope Only danger in pursuing What to them seemed distant dreams Of being whole.

Should howling winds of jealousy or hate rake the fragile craft of mortal sense, or in some dreadful hour towering waves of fear threaten to swamp sailor and ship, turn, oh, turn your fascinated gaze from storm's display! Remember our Lord, at peace upon faith's pillow, sleeping. Consider then the Master's lesson to the mariners: no sermon preached nor wry psychology, but clear proof the Principle of man gives to us dominion over storms within, without.

What sort of presents were you hoping to get? Nice ones, of course (everyone likes gifting) What sort of presents were you planning to give? Good ones, naturally and not just seasonally But maybe, just maybe it's time to receive a gift of an entirely different sort— presents giving place to presence? Loving presence Infinite presence Faithful presence Ever-presence Something you can feel and hold on to but nothing under wraps no paper or ribbon to conceal it something of value inestimable bestowed by the great Giver: the Christ expressed And once we've received it this God gift of love is it something we dare to share? The cost is dear, priceless in fact It may mean less wrapping and shopping and rushing It may mean more manger-quiet appreciation of our God, ourselves, our brother and sister It may mean that giving is also forgiving It may mean that caring is also forbearing Don't miss out: this year give more than you ever gave before. The world really needs your Christmas presence.

While as a shepherd abiding in Love, keeping close watch over flocks of those whose night seems real (dear lambs in your arms): Always a star dawns, centered in heaven; always fresh angels affirm that good is single fact for flocks. Once Christ proves innocence true, all that remains is rejoicing— all that endures is peace.

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

Good evidences harmony, oblivious of evil— does its healing work through the Christ through the child in us, through conscious victory and the exodus of all self-pity. Good (always seeing) rich in harmony, becomes the sweet thesaurus of our being.

Here I sit, with the crowds, All competing for the prize— "First one into the pool. " Those who need the angel's touch the least Will most likely get there first.

The 5000 fed, the Pentecostal hundreds, the 70 sent— were they so much greater than the twelve appointed, the friends at the cross, the one or two at the resurrection? The few who have come today will always seem small compared to those who could have come. But the command is to pray for these few, to so love the Christ, which has called us together, that we understand why in the middle of this mighty congregation numbers don't count.