Poems

I looked at my feet and said, "Will you take me a journey?" They said, "No, we are tired. " I looked at my hands and said, "Will you play me a song?" They said, "No, we've not practiced.

Now are there days when earthly shadows lighten, When holy promise yields to present good, As glorious glimpses came to olden prophets At Bethel and on mount where Moses stood. Now are there hours when nearer draws the city Where no lie enters and where nought defiles.

Send out Thy light and truth; we need Thy light. We are as children, fearful in the night.

It was a morn I never shall forget As we sat there, we three, mending our nets And musing as to what the catch would be And if it would be enough to pay the tax Which Caesar levied. That day it seemed our very livelihood Depended on it And we must toil till dark to make it pay, A grueling task to bring a share of gain.

Thank You, Father, for this feast where inspiration is the wine, not alone for me and mine. Your potent truth is holy fare— bread which hungering ones may share.

This is God's day. The evening as the morning by Him alone is ruled.

In all the ages Thought has never been imprisoned. New tyrannies may still Impose imperious, unholy will Upon the shrinking flesh of race or creed, But thought goes free; Never, while ages last, Can thought be crucified Or death bombs blast It to vacuity! Take, therefore, this imperishable power, translate To brotherhood all earthborn lust and hate, Let the sweet dignity of man arise And every concept pass beneath Love's rod; Only in unselfed thinking freedom lies— Think, then, the thoughts of God!

You are not alone— You who cry out in loneliness. Declare God's presence ever meets your need For friend and home.

Did you hear what the Master said to us? Then I will bring it to your memory: He looked on us with all-embracing love; Knew that at times we faltered, sore afraid, Yet in all tenderness he called us friends. At those dear words, "Ye are my friends," Our hearts knew utter joy and soaring hope.

Pure faith perched near my window And swelled his feathered throat. "Praise unto God!" he trilled aloud With every liquid note.