Poems

you had it all worked out .

In a dream that seemed so real, I heard my child calling to me to save him. Frantic and with all my strength I rushed to the scene, finding him already beyond my reach.

Here is love, in every heart Imparting man's real parenthood. Here no tears or weary fear, Father-Mother God is good! Father, here I lay my heart, Hardened knot of ache and woe.

Am I ready when the felon, addict, debauchee— ensnared by sensual lure— ask for aid? Am I too awed by sin to bring the Christly cure to mankind's fringe? Is the Christ only for the not-too-bad? No! The Master would see true identity, unmask evil, redirect desire, reform, restore. And so should I likewise prove unreal depravity and its penalty— help reinstate in all man's native purity.

should be like walking into a manger, not a hall of judgment— a place so shorn of self-righteousness, so free of all reproach, that the hungering heart will feel no shame, no awkward fear, no insecurity. Sitting in a church should be like sitting in a field of sunlight— comfortable and warm— while Love's sweet air is bearing fragrances of Christ's simplicity.

I'm never hostage in the hands of dreams. I live in dreamless Truth, reality.

And a certain man lame from his mother's womb was carried, whom they laid daily at the gate of the temple which is called Beautiful, to ask alms of them that entered into the temple; who seeing Peter and John about to go into the temple asked an alms. (Acts 3:2, 3) Acting out a misconception (fettered by womb-tomb theory) of birthright, with his sense of substance apparently locked in a to-beg-to-bed routine, limitation was the verdict— birthright: crippled capacity/aborted career substance: contorted limbs/chancy income.

Again And yet again We gather year by year To hear the teaching That impels our reaching For assurance and strength— learning, discerning, yearning to understand. Meeting and greeting Again and yet again We join "other seventy" also Grateful for that first awakening— Which ended all too soon— When we carried home a new idea: to grow, and to know; and to sow with love and joy.

Consummate beauty crowns the alpine crest In glow of dawn and blaze of setting sun; Our humble upward gaze in awe would rest Upon the work of God, whose will is done. We also, in our heart of hearts, would climb, By means of words, self-luminous and bright, The heights of oratory, prayer, or rhyme, Inspirited by God's revealing light.

God-inspired good unfolding— man reflecting, Mind upholding. God is All.