Poems from The Gifts of God

Things about Faith and Spirituality.
If it is beyond words, the words can not show, but can help to indicate the direction.

Angels are Thoughts that come from God to you.
Secure in their protection may you rest;
Quiet in certainty that comes from them,
At peace in mind and heart and holiness;
Unmindful of the world, and sure that they
Are with you, watching over you, and fixed
In their determination to maintain
Your mind at rest within the peace of God.

The Last Judgement
Peace be to you. There is no instant when
You stand alone; no time when God will fail
to take your hand; no moment when His Love
Does not surround you, comfort you and care,
Along with you, for every wish you have,
Each little joy or tiny stab of pain.

At one with you forever, He remains
Your one relationship; your only Friend.
You are the holy Son of God Himself.
Peace be to you, for what is His is yours.

Christ's Vision
Let not the past obscure the now to you.
For thus you waken happily, with joy
Upon your heart and eyes, to see a world
Awaiting to be seen aright at last.

How beautiful the newly-born! For they
Reflect their Father's Love, their brother's care,
The happiness of Heaven, and peace
that is their true inheritance. It is
On them you look. They have no past today.

All darkness vanishes, and Heaven's smile
Presents a world from which the past is gone,
And present happiness ends all despair
In shining silence and simplicity.

Let not the past obscure the now to you.
For thus you waken happily, with joy
Upon your heart and eyes, to see a world
Awaiting to be seen aright at last.

Our daily bread
Let me this day arise in quietness
With only thoughts of sinlessness, through which
To look upon the world. Let me today
Behold the world as You would have it be,
Because I am as You created me.

This I accept today. And as the day
Draws to a close, all unforgiving thoughts
Have disappeared, and night comes quietly
To bless a day in quietness begun,
And ending in forgiveness of God's Son.

My soul is still. It does not know the thoughts
My mind imagines. It does not perceive
My meaningless endeavors, nor the goals
Of sin and madness in which I believe.

Immovable my soul remains, and sure
Of immortality, in peace so deep
That all the shocks I feel can not come near
Its limitless tranquility. I sleep,
And dream of evil and decay and death,
Of which my soul knows nothing, Perfectly
It rests in its Creator and in me.

Song to my Self
I cannot be replaced. I am unique
In God's creation. I am held so dear
By Him that it is madness to believe
That I could suffer pain or loss or fear.

Holy am I; in sinlessness complete,
In wisdom infinite, in love secure,
In patience perfect, and in faithfulness
Beyond all thought of sin, and wholly pure.

Who could conceive of suffering for me?
Surely the mind that thought it is insane.
I never left my Father's house. What need
Have I to journey back to Him again?

The holy relationship
I am God's Son, His mother, father, friend,
His brother and His love. For all of this
Is He to me, and thus am I to Him.

The world is His. And being His is mine.
My holiness extends from Him, to be
His holiness, by love complete in me.

To heal it is not needful to allow
The thought of bodies to' engulf your mind
In darkness and illusions. Healing is
Escape from all such thoughts. You hold instead
Only a single thought, which teaches You

Your brother is united with your mind,
So bodily intrusions on his peace
Cannot arise to jeopardize the Son
Whom God created sinless as Himself.

Think never of the body, Healing is
The thought of unity. Forget all things
That seem to separate. Your brother's pain
Has but one remedy; the same as yours.
He must be whole, because he joins with you,
And you are healed, because you join with him.

Mother of the world
Peace is a woman, mother to the world,
Whom God has sent to lay a gentle hand
Across a thousand children's fevered brows.
In its cool certainty there is no fear,
And from her breasts there comes a quietness
For them to lean against and to be still.
She brings a message to their frightened hearts
From Him Who sent her. Listen now to her
Who is your mother in your Father's Name:
"Do not attend the voices of the world.

Do not attempt to crucify again
My first-born Son, and brother still to you."
Heaven is in her eyes, because she looked
Upon this Son who was the first. And now
She looks to you to find him once again.
Do not deny the mother of the world
The only thing she ever wants to see,
For it is all you ever want to find.

The circular way
The transient things are not of God.
For He Creates like to Himself. How can it be
That what the One Eternal calls His Own
Has but a little life, with breath on loan
And mortgaged unto death? We seem to go
From birth to certain death, and do not know
What goes before or after. Yet we tread
A golden circle, and are surely led
Back to the Source of our infinity,
To which we will return as certainty.

The world knows not of quiet. Restlessness
Is its abiding law. From there it goes
To pain and joylessness, and back again
To the unceasing restlessness on which
It stands, uncertain, insecure and frail,
Prey to illusions, victimized by guilt.
Yet quietness comes over it at last.

For when forgiveness comes, its certain gift
Is stillness, in which all the world is hushed;
A silence where the littleness of sin
Shrinks into nothingness before the Love
Forgiveness represents. And in His Name
Is everyone acknowledged as the same.