Poems

There is gratitude that lifts all fear And leaves God's child alone, to hear. There is gratitude that stills all pride And ushers angels to our side.

When all words fail And there is nothing more That can be said, And when confusion And despair Oppress and overwhelm, There is still a sanctuary Where we can go And find a peace And calm so sweet, Where all strife And bitterness Just melt away, And where we can Once more Secure our unity With God, Our loved ones, And our brother men— It is the sanctuary Of quietness And complete surrender To our Father-Mother Love . Amaryllis Hyde.

How pressures lift, how tensions yield When all self-centered strivings die, And hopes in higher service lie, As God's direction is revealed! This is the way of holiness, The way of never turning back, Of ceaseless good replacing lack Where God is ever close to bless. Louise S.

O blessed day when men reject the myth of matter and its laws, Acknowledging with gratitude the spiritual cause. Transplanting the affections of the heart from sense to Soul, Man knows his "life is hid with Christ in God"—eternal, whole.

After so long, so long in my tight prison, with my familiar shackles heavy on head and heart; after so long, so long, suddenly I see the bars with the eyes God gave me, touch the chains with the hand God made me, and suddenly, suddenly (Oh, but my heart flies out of the dream like a singing bird!) suddenly I am free. Virginia Thesiger.

I felt the world weeping today, dear God. I felt the world weeping.

So often I had proudly said, "I love my neighbor," (remembering the healing thoughts I'd fed to friends in need, the honor shown to parents, the kindness shown to strangers, the unselfed sacrifices in my day). But this was not enough, and in its quiet, heartfelt way the Christly message came: "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.

For vision of parenthood as inspired adventure, For wisdom to map out the happy way, For willingness to learn from each condition, O Father-Mother Love we pray. Madora Holt.

Mind's qualities must count always, Not youth nor age of mortal man. A spiritual animus must raise One's thought beyond mere human span Of years, of skills, experience too.

The earth was made to be inhabited; Yet, with populace exploding much, multitudes are hungry, lack the touch of human kindness—innocents in want, despairing and unloved, face the gaunt specter of lack. We can challenge this, but only one can reach them with the bliss of plenitude in everything—the tryst kept by rich compassion of the Christ that spake by Jesus in a desert place, and speaks again to every creed and race: "They need not depart; give ye them to eat.