Poems

Open your ears—that you may hear His Word. Open your eyes—that you may see His creation.

A young man fell in love, But he was only dreaming. And, in his dream, love unreturned Produced a deeper dreaming: An old man all alone, In solitary sadness, Dreamed no one there to fill his hunger With the wheat of gladness.

I see progress in so many little ways, The chastened motive, the quiet Godward gaze. A slower pace my footsteps find— A redemptive life, a regenerated mind.

Dear member, You and I look across from opposite sides of the fence. We see things from different places.

That living cross! Great rugged stirring stick, Bring fire and purpose into my heart, Stir the too-long-buried thrill, Open me wide to that wave of love (To make those empty dull thoughts come alive— No trickle charge but a surge of new awe so strong That it stretches my thought to prophetic vision)! May I never be found standing still But living the Christ's way as never before, With its hymn of praise sung by those who are called — Astonished by His gifts, humbled by His power, Always to hear that beat and obey Despite the hurling stones. Make me leap to apostle-like prayers.

It sounds so simple—love. Is it just a word offered in compassion? No! Powered with understanding, tendered with faith, it reaches the hungering heart.

Like Joseph in the pit, I smelled the earth; like Moses at the burning bush, I felt the heat. I read the little book—the earth melted.

Love and the power of Love and the glory of the power of Love transfixed the instant as a point inside/outside of time It was a speaking of the very Word which memory alone could not communicate or recall— a benediction that echoes and echoes carving through time's quiet places a new definition of the palpable. STEPHEN GOTTSCHALK.

If error seems to sit upon the very doorstep of your thought and howl, don't fear it: No matter what external cacophony there seems to be, you are secure within the consciousness of Love. This noisy neighbor cannot harm you when you stay your thought on God, refusing entry to all else but good.

The passage of time— It seems such a Goliath. It tells me that life is a downhill trip, That at a given point Strength, companionship, resources, inspiration, begin to wane.