Poems

Who could believe and who accept as "chosen vessel" This rigid Pharisee, bound by letter, code, and creed? Destroyer! Bent on bringing to an end the words and works Of Christ and all who preached his name .

Daughter of patience, compassion and care, Mary and Martha united in Love, Yours a persuasion of unceasing prayer— Yours a profession ordained from above. Hearts who would vanquish mortality's claim Find in your gentleness heavenly rest.

Within me burns a fire, strange, incandescent flower of the supreme desire that fuses self in Soul. Molten by a higher vision, the vaunted claims of personal pride and power consume in meekness that discerns, within Love's light, man whole, a radiance of His being.

Teach us, O Lord, To know a true humility, That, like the shepherds long ago, When we shall hear Truth's angel voice, We too shall rise and go To seek its light. Oh, let us learn Of wisdom, and of constancy, That, like the Wisemen, we shall see The star of hope, And let ourselves be led, Unquestioning, across the shifting sands To cast our earthly treasures down Before the feet of Truth.

Christmas, let me somehow reach you, Find the peace for which you stand. Know the secret self-surrender, Far apart from worldly splendor.

"The iron did swim" its weight as wood caused by Him whose law of good, applied by man, bids matter act subservient to Spirit's fact. Margaret E.

Let music swell within God's house, Clear springs of joy that never cease To celebrate His truth, His love, Compassion, wisdom, peace. Lo, these the healing streams that gush From grateful hearts and, gathering might, Pour rivers deep and wide to form Seas that are infinite.

The loving deed implicit in the spoken word of love rounds into wholeness shaped by perfect Mind, the word and act inseparable, as bird and song, as root and vine. Love gives full measure in consonance divine; pleads not that it should be, but is.

Master, the disciples said, All these thousands have not fed And have not sufficient bread To meet their need. Jesus turned in humble prayer.

Your lot Screamed error's channel— Discord, loss, loneliness, Doubt, and fear All the days of your life to come! And, oh, how error televised Its own evidence, Cruel and bold. Weeping and helpless, I bowed for a time Until one day My heart rose up And in rebellion cried, Not so! God is good! God is Love! My lot is home, Complete, secure, With a father's faith, A mother's hope, And a child's pure joy.