Poems

At last the child. At last for Mary The sweet fulfillment of those waiting months.

When I am conscious Thou art very near, There is a radiant difference in the world; No anxious thinking here. Where error seemed to be, Truth is; While fear, forgotten in the light Love gives, Throws not a shadow; its nothingness revealed.

This loved one—not a person to adore, But Mind's idea, blessed with humor, grace, And gentleness. There is a solid core Of faith between good friends, and whether face To face or leagues apart no final breach Of time or death can part their company.

" O man greatly beloved"— This name applies to you. Since now you have the Father's love, Accept His message too.

Thanksgiving morning is a time Designed for special gratitude: Not only thanks for harvest grain, For wealth of apple, grape, and lime And other fruitage rainbow-hued, Nor yet for timely sun and rain, But gratitude for answered prayer, For healing, and for comforting Through Truth's clear vision that reveals The proof of God's eternal care. The heart's deep thankfulness will bring The spoken evidence that heals.

How in that early Christian air, that morning light, the angel of the Lord spoke clear as a neighbor might: saying to Peter, "Gird thyself.

Shall I, unthinking, pass him by whom thieves have stripped and left to die— base thieves of wickedness and greed? I have the balm to meet his need. Thought, gently lift him.

" I will not fear what flesh can do Unto me. " It has no knowledge of my true Identity.

I hated those who fought against the right. But then I read again about that night Within the Garden of Gethsemane: Enfolded still by Love, the Master stood; The noise and the confusion found him calm.

Dwelling in Mind man needs no ship of space, For swift as thought can comprehend or far, Unhindered by beliefs of time or place, He sees beyond yet undiscovered star. He moves unbound by calculated force, Joyous within Love's atmosphere to find No orbit strange, no outer unknown course.