Poems

Father, the night seemed lonely in the valley, As clouds of doubt seemed to obscure the way; But with the morning came Thy angel message: "Thou art in Love's safe keeping, watch and pray. " Thy gentleness encompasses my being.

Man is no captive in a foreign world Of death and dark deception—wingless child Adrift on chartless winds, forever hurled From night to night. He is no slave defiled By sin and serfdom, clutching to his breast The piteous fragments of his dignity.

Unfoldment of man's life is one With the bright promise of the rose. The ancient attar sweetly flows.

There is no silent emptiness of space; We cannot speed beyond Love's close embrace; The utterance of thought is all around, Beyond the barrier of mortal sound. No deathlike empty silence shall we find, But rich communion with the Spirit, Mind; No lack of consciousness, we may be sure; Instead, the heaven-sent prompting and the pure And clear significance that may be heard Beyond the confines of the measured word.

With infinite wisdom my Father has led me Through the dark valley and up the steep road, And when I have stumbled, His hand has upheld me, Bringing me comfort and easing the load. With infinite patience my Father has taught me, Lifting my thought above pain and distress, And when I am listening the message comes clearly, "Lo, I am with you, to heal and to bless.

God must reveal Christ, Truth, within the heart, For Truth is never found by human art. No occult sense reveals what Spirit knows, No supernatural power Truth's gift bestows.

Oh , may each heart with joy now overflow With happiness that comes from sharing good. Gladness to see another find the way— A smile of gratitude, a song of praise.

Deep in a forest wilderness we found an opening where a lake lay narrowly between two rising cliffs. These cliffs gave back to us a double echo when we called.

Life is complete: from the first leaf's flush To the year's autumnal tracery— Lush green and crimson unite as one Sweet overflow; perennial Is all the joy and fruitage of God's man. Today is forever ours, This day is forever dawning, The light that forever flowers into everlasting morning, The Life forever brightening In one eternal span.

Whether we worship in some quiet church Far from the scream of shattering bombs and shells, Or bow our heads in some bare Quonset hut Whose shining cross its message sweetly tells— Whether at home or in some lonely place With chilling snows, or mud, or flowering sod Near battle lines, where strong and weak men kneel And, unashamed, confess their need of God— Whether we have no chance to meet apart In church or home or trench, oh, let us know It matters not the time, the place, the need, So long as we keep Easter in the heart.