Poems

Its tone, its timbre, the very sound of moral— beautiful to me! Yet moral is the means to the spiritual I really am. Moral is where I need most to be: Striving, praying, climbing the moral way— the way of hope and certainty— the way to spiritual reality.

Wings of hope hover over this sea of despair where I flounder in self-sadness and pity so dark that I think I've lost the image of the ark. But the dove returns to the safety of Truth.

And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure. (I John 3:3.

"Now it's in Your hands, dear Father. I (mortal man) can do no more.

The babbling of a nearby brook, The shining of a distant star, The laughter of a child at play, The dawning of each joy-filled day. The inner voice that bids no fear, That tells me only good is here.

Listen to the stillness Of morning, Stillness of white clouds Across a lovely sky. Stillness of grass, Each blade motionless; Quiet fruit tree, No leaf stirring.

Dear God, I come in prayer each day, Seeking my sonship, sure, with Thee. Thy loving spirit, as I pray, Tells me I'm Thine eternally.

Like a God-chosen soldier of Gideon, listen and obey. Stand in your place and break earth's fetters.

Let us rise and shine— glow warmly, radiate— till the mists of error thin and dissipate. And if fog-veiled thought cannot at once perceive, let's shine on and demonstrate the truths we believe.

Have you heard the mocking laughter? Have you felt the winds blow cold? They howl in the wilderness, In the waste howling wilderness. Have you seen the vultures hovering, Have you tasted the poison of asps, Have you smelled smoke, Yet disappointed them all, and lived— Because you loved Life? Yes, love Life, God! God is in the wilderness too, In the waste howling wilderness, God is right there with you.