Poems

Christ Jesus used the things at hand To point the truths time cannot dim: The fields, the seed, the bread, and wine, Brought home the lessons taught by him. Now when the world's contrivances, Through many an anxious plot and scheme, Would drug us with embellishments, And make of heaven a distant dream, We can recall the Master's words, The hope he brought a troubled land, And heed the joyous message found In simple things that are at hand.

Far , far removed from weight conceived by men Is weight as attribute of love-filled Mind— As import, worth, power, value, or significance, Things calculable only by scales divine. Weighed matter, whether of wood, brick, bubble, or butterfly, Or flesh, whether sufficient or else superfluous, Or goods, just or unjust, in or else out of balance, Is less than breath, for what weight has mirage? Or how heavy the mere picture of a rock? A spurious mind, sense-darkened, self-confused, Assumes for its images substance never there.

On a hillside in Galilee gathered a throng, expectant, listening for the truth which makes free. A hush fell as the master Christian "opened his mouth, and taught them, saying,.

Oh , when I meet you, loving pilgrim-friend, My heart is not misled by plaintive sense Nor mortal prophecy; But looking where the perfect lens of Love Discerns your individuality, And where the splendor of the living God Shines like a burst of glory Welling from the infinite, I find supreme content; for in this light Your eyes will be illumined. There you too, Attracted by the same magnificence, May weigh its worth and find the vision true.

Slow , dusty miles to Bethlehem, But inward singing all the way; No lodging in the worldly inn, But humble rest on wind-sweet hay. A travail prophesied of old Beneath the ancient, golden sun, But only homespun swaddling clothes For sacred kinghood just begun.

The star that blazoned Bethlehem's sky Still lights the world; it cannot die: And those who follow it with grace Are led into "the secret place. " No stress, no strife, can enter there, But doors swing wide to humble prayer.

Actually there is no lack of good and no temptation to believe in bad; no unsolved problems continuing in rehearsal, no unhealed grievances to tell, no unchecked annoyances to revel in. The child of God has no affinity for any sin.

No loneness dims my happy solitude, Nor sad repining. The silent Christ, all radiant, joyous, shining, Is here to sup with me, to teach, to heal! We share the sacred meal, Quaff of Love's brimming cup, And giving thanks, eat of Truth's bread in unity.

Forlorn , they wandered in the wilderness— The bondwoman with Ishmael, her child. Their pot of water and their bread were spent.

O Life sublime, Thy gracious, pure demands Have summoned us into this holy place. Unlimited by time's constraining hands, The Soul-filled years of Truth's appearing trace Unfolding patterns of eternity Upon the history of the waking world God's Science stands in true conformity With Christ, its healing power all unfurled In Spirit's everlasting law and light; Its ministry is not bound up in pride And person, but is compassed by the might Of Principle, man's governor and guide.