Poems

I place them in Your hands, dear God; I trust them to Your care. You who mark the sparrow's fall And number every hair Will cherish them and guard them well From snares of every kind.

Where wast thou when the sons of God shouted for joy? And now where are you when the sons of God shout? For shout they do! The shouting time wasn't yesterday, nor is it tomorrow's promise. The reign of Love is here, is now— the reason for the joy remains! How can the singing change? Can you ever cease to shout for joy— you, already cherished, held tenderly, without alloy within your Father's consciousness (a jealous God who will never let you go)? The sons of God are shouting! Where wast thou and where are you now when the morning stars sing together? Declare! Raise your voice, rejoice! HAZEL VALERY KNIGHT.

O fathering God of righteousness, Known through the Christ, Your Son, Unfold in us the consciousness Wherein Your will is done: When that will steers a nation's might Past prejudice and fears And wakens men's hearts to the right— Christ in the world appears. O mothering God, this day we seek One great Love to adore, The Love that sweetens peoples' thought On every land and shore; Your male-female is genderless— Whose sinless grace endures, Whose strength flows through our tenderness, Whose motives all are Yours.

Who needs it? Accolades, praise, fodder for pride— personal sense designed to hide the fact that God is All. And man is, and has, and does as God's reflection.

Helpless no longer, but model for all— ("I was blind, now I see"). Active, fearless, obedient, grateful, avowing the Christ quite openly.

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.