Poems

Mortal sense contradicts Spirit, tempts human thought to believe  the absence of light it imagines, dark fears that betray and deceive. Yet strong faith, our undaunted sentinel, stands guard against the night, obliterates baseless illusions, rejoices in Christ, Truth, the light.

Here, at this humble water source    a woman of Samaria       encountered a man          from Nazareth Where she saw him    a travel-weary Jew       thirsty, foreign    he saw himself    the blessed bearer       of a gift eternally fulfilling  Where she saw herself    a scorned outcast       mired in a shameful past                                                 He saw her    the beloved heir       of a fathomless wellspring of blessing  And in the end, of course            his view prevailed,       and she set out, rejoicing—          her waterpot abandoned—          to lead even those who’d scorned her             to that wellspring of the Christ —Joanne Otto.

When Jesus was upon the cross, friends may have thought all hope was lost. The good he shared looked all undone, but, oh, the best was yet to come.

In the mountain of His holiness    Truth rejoices thought And Love is seen supreme    As reality is sought  Oh, let us climb the mountain    To reach the Horeb height The pathway thereof luminous    Through Christly inner light  A light so strong it cannot wane    Earth is not its source The law of omniactive Mind    Its operating force  And everywhere reflected    Affirming God’s domain Shines the brightness of His glory    An everlasting reign —G. Gershala Goldsmith.

Behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.   — Luke 7:37, 38  i may not  be welcome here but somehow cannot stop myself the Light calls out and light pours out of me— irrepressible offering to give give give every drop of thanks to let this love be rivers washing please … take, receive my hands my hair my tears my every inkling and turn them to  divine Love’s anointing blessing thanking how is it then that it is I who comes forth washed so clean? —Joni Overton-Jung.

So loving, so kind, the Christian Science nurse smiles with tenderness  and compassion, inspires and lifts our thought. The littlest deeds, the smallest considerations, the heartfelt constancy are a glow of brightness  that surrounds us.

One night I dreamed I fell into a pit. I dreamed I prayed for God to rescue me.

The practitioner averred, “I have no sympathy with terror, but utmost compassion for you— God’s beloved idea is not afraid. I have no sympathy with error, but utmost compassion for you, God’s cherished and nurtured— you are not afraid.

Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace.   — Luke 8:48 Your freedom came so quickly, when trembling humble hope met his all-knowing mercy unlimited in scope.

Fresh upon the listening ear    Of one who waits upon the Word,       Comes inspiration, calm and clear,          As whispers of God’s truth are heard. New concepts only Mind can give    Call gently at the open door       Of consciousness, which longs to live          In heavenly places, more and more! The Reader, moved to holy thought    So sweetly furnished from above,       Receives the manna, humbly sought          In grateful prayer—embraced by Love.