Poems

Sometimes when we speak the language of Love we speak without words, we speak without words as we withhold the harsh retort the acrid answer. Other times the lullaby in our hearts sings out in speechless tenderness the unheard melody beloved by Keats.

I've come because of the light from your window. You know, it's a terrible night.

Following that incisive summation enfold of brother love of spiritual cause/spiritual effect windowed release to law the people saw that Jesus "taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes"— (the scribes who demanded but practiced not, who claimed to be authority and therefore law to others, self-lifting to the upper rooms self-rewarding with the enlarged borders). Hearts turned, stirred incandescent with hope that lit the centuries quick with healing through Jesus' impeccable practice of having authority.

Here is my little thought: my tiny contribution to the world's recovery. Here is my heart's small prayer, launched like a paper ship on a dark, uncomprehending sea.

In truth we are all "lively stones" in the temple of our God, not weighted down by inert matter not burdened with heaviness like anchored boulders. We are lively stones! light, but not ephemeral, having solidity of purpose and fluency of joy showing forth Love's loveliness Spirit's holiness Mind's liveliness: Lively stones hewn from the rock of Truth and raising a temple of praise to the everlasting God.

Like a cocoon God's love softly surrounds me. Unfurled its strong strands enfold the world.

As far as social conscience is concerned, I was a late-starter— global awareness was not my strongest point. Economic repressions, depressions, world crises passed me by—untouched.

Although local planners failed to put a line in the municipal budget for      "multitudes, feeding of," Jesus and a quite ordinary Hollywood Bowl-sized crowd      from the neighborhood saw Mind take form in substance, humanly perceived that cool evening in a desert place. "I have compassion on the multitude.

We know not yet what they shall be When we shall see them as they are; We'll keep the essence of them free We will not think of them as far. When we shall see them as they are No longer hidden by a veil, We will not think of them as far We will not think of them as frail.

I love expanse of sea and star-crowned nights for blackboard thoughts (uncluttered simple free). I love them as I love the shell the spider's web the leaf.