Poems

Retired? Not you! When did God say He would only need you for sixty-five years (more or less)? Your work's not finished— it's only begun! Advancing moments bring clearer vision, increasing strength— So stride joyfully into new fields of labor, Letting superimposed time-fetters vanish in radiant discovery of your multifaceted splendor, your infinite essentiality as God's loved child. MARGARET R.

Forgive! The challenge Jesus gave to Peter also comes to me. What right have I to violate that sacred Christ decree? To fail forgiveness is to judge.

"The vesture of Life is Truth. " Science and Health by Mrs.

"Alas, you've reached your sixtieth year," Said mortal mind. I shed a tear.

"Not my will, but Thine, O Lord, be done" seemed at one time an impossible prayer. I loved my will! To me it seemed no sin to act upon it quickly, and defer obedience to God's will till later on when life was less exciting, when the fire of human will was less intense—the charm of human ways less likely to beguile.

To love you Is to know something of eternity. For this love is steadfast And enduring.

Yearning to live beyond earth's limitations in Spirit's limitless reality, I let my thoughts soar rocket-like through cosmic arcs. Mentally I vault space-time, neutralize gravity (eyes alight), Envision Love's gathering power in spiritual galaxies alive with forms.

Which shall I choose to use? The choice is mine. I can decline to stumble, even when rubble of trouble seems to place an adamant, stubborn stone before my face.

Like one who journeys far, so you have gone, not to return to rend the veil that seems to separate the two of us. Grieving thoughts tempt my joy with loss and loneliness.

All is quiet in Gethsemane this evening, except the knot of men gathering in a dark corner of the olive garden. Even Peter is napping, unable to face the warning of pending events.