Poems

I want , I said, And sought to demonstrate abundant good. I worked and prayed and hoped and tried to get— And all I did was fret.

Fear not, the master Christian said, and follow me. Look not behind, but forward speed to victory.

" What is God?" the child's voice queried, As we stood on the shore of the flame-tipped sea. "Is that Him?" the small hand motioned, Pointing the sunset out to me.

The motherhood of Hannah, How radiant and rich! She fashioned for her man-child (With love in every stitch) A little coat to warm him Within the temple gate. The motherhood of Hannah, How radiant and great! No sorry cords of selfishness She twined around the boy; She gave him to the Father With thankfulness and joy.

Dear Father, give me the wisdom To help those who come to me, Seeking Thee. Rightly distributing the truth In deepest humility.

Our Father, God, we pray for guidance Over devious ways that we must tread; Like those of old in their wilderness journey May we be led. Dear Mother, Love, we yearn for comfort; Fold us close in a warm embrace.

And with the dawn came Mary, In grief's deep anguish bound, To seek her Lord in death's dark tomb Where Life is never found. Through tears she saw the gardener And, hopeful, sought his aid To find the place, the hidden place, Where Jesus might be laid.

Late and early, It matters not to me; Late and early, Unto eternity; The loveliness of loving, The purity of Soul, Unfolds before my vision To make a perfect whole. Late and early, Ah, never let me stray To wider paths alluring That beckon me away.

The mirror on the wall does not reveal Identity. The human faces seen Within the fragile looking glass conceal The perfect man-inviolate, serene.

Law-bred, law-supported—order. But watch the subtle robot hoarder of words, the counterfeit—routine— building its cumbersome machine.