Poems

When? Constant rising: no morning or evening, not temporal better , but eternal good. No material vanishing act: (though it so appear) less final victory than round-robin winning.

Pure teaching is like the wind: Mostly a current, flowing and peaceful; Ofttimes a breeze, bracing and wakeful; Maybe a push, joking and joyful; Sometimes a gust, jolting and needful; Even a gale, cleansing and powerful; Really the Spirit, loving and truthful. MARGUERITE L.

Keep sweet! The taste of wormwood or of gall could not defeat the milk and honey of the Christ. Be filled! Be nourished well of that meat, that meal where you yourself are healed and heal, whereby you grow from bitter/sweet.

O Love, release me from my smallness that hides Thy mighty allness. Release me from this "me" that shuts out Thine infinity.

God,      speaking to His beloved, says: Come unto Me where you belong                                                                    and stay with Me.      Look out from My infinitude of good, seeing good and only good,      for I Am that I Am, the All and Only: beside Me there is none.

"Not mine," I hold— the claim of grief for those gone from our sight. Not mine, I peaceably persist— the will to justify actions misunderstood.

When I am safe in my bed with simulations of life seeming to dance in my head I awake only to find I must continue to awake from the simulations of life seeming to dance in matter awake to my perfect self reflecting Spirit, Life, Mind, Principle— untouched by the simulations. KARLA JAN WATTS.

What will it be— yes or no? Which way will this phase of my life go? ("Time no longer" means "Delay no longer. ") Man's perfection comes not with time— it is right now.

In the nighttime of a sorrow, In the depths of a despair, The light of God's tomorrow Is a glory everywhere. Though forward steps are stalling And weary hope seems spent, Soul sings—at Spirit's calling! And doubting thoughts repent.

One time I heard a robin sing; there was no sign of light. I thought, "I must be hearing things, it's the middle of the night!" I wondered at his attitude—he sang, though it was dark.