Poems

Did anybody notice the light in his eye the love on his face when they stoned him— this gallant man Stephen? Or did they just see the mud on his robe, the blood on his brow? Did somebody notice that in his agony he spoke not of pain nor of treachery but of forgiveness? "Lord," he cried, "lay not this sin to their charge. " That selfless, Christly spirit never died and never will.

God is man's source. In no mortal "I am" does man inhere, But in timeless, tireless Being man is conceived — God's immortal heir! No Adam-dream originates man: His source is conscious Life; perfection the Father's command.

In the evening of His peace and rest I weed the pasture clear of stubborn unreality. Truth, the implement, digs down deep to turn up stalk and root — seen and unseen tare.

Stand erect in goodness Your thought filled with Spirit's light See all who enter as the child of God Perfect—complete—upright. HOWARD ALLEN ROSS.

Waking world, you're awaiting this faith-filled prayer. Not a world "out there," your place is right where consciousness is dwelling.

Enough said. Enough read.

Let me raise up high no burnt sacrifice to God, but in joyful tribute ever exalt my waking thought— until it touches, yieldingly, the garment hem of Love. VERA H.

All-embracing arm of law Holds, Enfolds me In its care. No violence nor fear, No waste howling wilderness here To dim my eyes, To stay my God-led way.

It must have been a buoyancy beyond my comprehension that sent the Master calm and free across the Sea of Galilee. This buoyancy—dear, small degree- upholds my bold attention as I pursue my destiny and follow Christ above life's sea.

I am not experiment created once, and dropped into the maze of humanity, a journal kept of observations, aberrations, awaiting final judgment (success/ failure). God is present, perfect Love, loving me, creating me, keeping me, sustaining me, making me at present spiritual and perfect.