The giant redwood stretches toward the sky
Its green-leafed boughs that speak a silent prayer
For light and warmth of sunlight. Thus do I
Uplift my thought above a sense of care,
Out of the mortal dream into the clear
White light of Truth, wherein no error dwells.
Then on a mental mountain peak I hear
The still, small voice of God that gently tells
The way that I must go to do His will.
With newly kindled zeal I journey on;
In gratitude I take each step until
The war of wrong and right is fought and won.
Then demonstration floods my consciousness
And I thank Him, who ever waits to bless.
Poems
DEMONSTRATION
From the August 1946 issue of The Christian Science Journal
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