Poems

God spoke to me today— Not in words Audible to human ear, But through bestowal of conviction That He is Love And ever here. God spoke to me today— Not in loud voice Outshouting error's din, But through unfolding of awareness That He is Soul, Which knows no sin.

Stand up —and fight for right. (It's just; I must) Stand by —and still the shrill of will.

I don't know all it means that You are Love. Although I pray with gratitude each day that in Your radiance I may learn and grow.

For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure. (Philippians 2:13) Morning.

you multiply a dream the product is always nothing. Accumulations of illusion have no real potential.

Mortal mind, how you procrastinate! Suspended in a state of "wait" (not for God-directives, but for your self-electives: tomorrow— later— another time). I'll not take the bait! It's not too late to dump the weight of "put-it-off.

(Question) What river must I dip in, Lord, that I, too, may be clean— washed of all impurities, those seen and (more) unseen? (Answer) The Jordan of My truth flows clear, available to all, as near as consciousness is near, responding to the call. (Request) Dissolve whatever Naaman-rage would counter Thy command, all willful suffering now assuage with Thy strong/gentle hand.

When childish tough-talk yields to receptivity and all those insecure/self-centered steps proceed in straight-line paths; When feminine wiles submit to Love's compassion and that serpent's tongue—slanderous gossip— is silenced by the Word; When domination defers to moral courage and macho self-will/animality retreats for purity; Then does my manhood complement my womanhood and not abuse my child-heart innocence but cheer the new idea. For I find at one (in unblemished harmony) the male/female/child of God's creating exemplified in me.

Joy lives fully— not in vagaries of the senses nor in hyped-up material pretenses but in the overflow of Soul's exact expression wherein depression, sorrow vanish not through repression but through development of that single, spiritual sense where joy is and is and is Soul's recompense. STEVEN ALAN AVEY.

Hypothesis presents its labyrinth inviting us to walk through rooms of limitation— door to door to door infancy to child to adolescent to .