Poems

When suffering sense would cause despair, I seek relief through healing prayer. Then clamor of material sense Heeds Christ's command, "Get thee hence"! Torment of fear gives way to peace, As Spirit's allness brings release.

Good morning, self! Greet your creator (He's pleased with you, you know). Let this waking second beckon you; drop night's cocoon and feel the freeing dawn-flight that's  yours.

Gratitude (yes) for the opportunity to expand my sense of love beyond self. If the love behind a healing is confined to self, that sense of love is incomplete.

Consider Peter. That fisherman, Used to rough waves, rough men.

The lecture is over. But the essence of the gift is still with us.

Where dragons lay Soft rushes grow. Gentle green things, Upspringing, show Love's presence Where no poison lurks To challenge God.

What lookers-on see is not necessarily me. I'm the active expression of Him who is and ever will be.

A transparency, you say? That's for mortal mind to become more and more of until it disappears. God made you!—not a pane through which the light of Truth can shine: outcome, emanation, idea, reflection— the light itself is what you are.

Where do you stand— here, now? What outworn footprints trail you— hate, indifference, waiting? Awake! Stand free! You are not in a race with time and space. You live the infinite now.

When doubt and fear of deprivation seemed to overwhelm my faith, I turned to God and cried, "Save me, Father, from my despair!" And the voice within replied, "Did I lead Israel into the wilderness to die? Did I require the widow of Zarephath to starve? Did I take back the Shunammite's son? Are you not Israel, my child? Are you not the widow? Are you not the Shunammite?" And then I knew, "It is well. " KARL S.