Poems

" God is a Spirit. " So our Master said.

The span of time that mortals use Is but device, a faulty ruse With which to cloak affinity To earthly things. Belief that we Have yet to gain reward—that time Supplies a space in which to climb To better life denotes a state Almighty God did not create.

Long had I looked for friendship that was true To my ideal—joyous, comforting, free As light, crowned with Love's healing radiancy. On myriad paths I sought it, often through A mist of tears.

God loves you, little children dear. And guards you day and night; You cannot drift beyond His care, Nor stray beyond His sight.

God make me big in little things of life, That envy, gossip, hate, can cause no strife. May I embrace in thought each friend and foe And let Love's concept of them in me glow.

" Not my will, but thine, be done. " This was the Master's prayer, That Spirit should be magnified To prove God everywhere.

Our Father, our Mother, our Lord! Pause and think—"our. " Lean on the word And hear the rhythmic pulse Of angel thoughts.

I saw my Lord the first time beside the sun-flecked sea With crowds who thronged about him to share his charity. The Galilean beaches were murmurous with the praise Of "God with us," Immanuel, touching our human ways.

Beyond Jordan's flood the Master walked. "Behold The Lamb of God!" the two disciples heard.

Thy kingdom is come in the heart's revelation Of Truth, Life, and Love as reflected in man, And sin disappears at the powerful negation Of all that falls short of God's wonderful plan. The Word is with Him, the forever appraising Of all that is His and that ever shall be.