Poems

Never would we stand apart nor criticize our brother with a twisted limb. Then this one's need (why don't we recognize?) to make his way back to his Father's field, however falteringly, and there to yield and see man's origin with purer eyes.

Yes, our hearts did burn within us! For Cleopas and the other one So for us the Scriptures were opened As teacher and pupils alike were taught by the Christ. Begun in Jerusalem, This journey to Emmaus by Cleopas and the other one Can begin in many cities now, and for all Emmaus is reached: bread of Truth broken, Eyes opened to the journey that never began, never ends— Instruction by the Christ.

He lived! Brought forth in cold and dark, he made it warm. No place he ever went stayed dark.

Heat pulses; unbelievable undulations pumping the abstractions of the desert. Sweat in my eyes.

Perfection— not a state of "is to be" for all to see; not a state of being past, which did not last; but a state of being present "with the Lord. " Being.

begins in Acts 6:5. It seems to end as stones turn red with Stephen's blood.

Not bland truths powderpuffed on— cosmetic glossover of evil's ugliness— but affirmation of the irresistible root-radical error-wrenching death-defying foundation of faith, that dynamic Principle of gentle omnipotence, which effaces whatever seems to hide God's reflected beauty— perfect man. Jean M.

Thought-joined prayers fill the room with understanding Jagged thoughts are gentled by reassurances of love Peace thoughts touch calm the frantic Unity of thought leaves the room together. Kristin J.

Thought ramifies forevering Soulward; whole Love overunders and throughouts creation, routing the notlike. God alls; man vasts along the truthfast way, proving surefully (beyond mere thinginess, above everywho) that Soul, I, is the sole Us.

The way to leave the world? Not by dying. Impossible that way.