Poems

The Star

The star that shone so long agoO'er Bethlehem afar,That cheered the shepherds' wakeful eyes,And brought such wonder to the wise—Still shines that ancient star.

The Christ Child

We think of him as a little child who came long, long ago,To bring his thoughts of purity to heal a world of woe.

Audio Collection

Anthology of classic articles

Listen to this inspiring collection of articles.

From Faculties indestructible

MAN'S DIVINE HERITAGE

Man's divine heritage as the son of God is not a promise, but is the present fact; it is one's true state of being.

View other Collections →

The Journey

WE need not remember the fearing, The anguish that crowded the night.

Write for JSH

Inspired by this poem? Consider writing and sharing your own! Find out more by visiting Writer’s Corner.

Write for JSH

Father , I thank Thee for these clearer raysOf Truth, the evening radiance and morning glow.

Confidence

Above the storms of passionAnd murmurs of self-will,The voice of Truth still whispersThe message, Peace, be still;And through the night of sorrowUpon life's restless sea,Love calms the waves of error,In silent victory.
[From The Christian Science Monitor (Copyright)]

Audio Collection

Mary Baker Eddy: Her enduring discovery

Listen to this inspiring collection of articles or download the audio.

Audio Collection

Shared reflections

Listen to this inspiring collection of articles or download the audio.

From Living the Lord's Prayer

'OUR FATHER ...'

The Lord's Prayer sparks the recognition that divine Love is always with us.

View other Collections →

From Freedom from addiction

LOST AND FOUND

I saw that in order to find my life, I had to first lose it—that is, lose all sense of life as material.

View other Collections →

Write for JSH

Inspired by this poem? Consider writing and sharing your own! Find out more by visiting Writer’s Corner.

Write for JSH

Evensong

DEAR Father-Mother Love, the day is ending—Day that began anew with praise to Thee; Dawn touched the mountain peaks to rose; descending, Tinged the blue mist of valley gloriously.

"The poppies of Flanders"

HE is not there; beneath the flowers of sleep He knows nor sleep nor dull forgetfulness.

My Garden

I KNOW a hidden garden, where In Mind's sweet solitude, Pure thoughts unfold like flowers rare, And nothing thrives but good.

"Neither do I condemn thee"

IN song, in speech, and in story, Sounds ever the sad refrain: The bird with the broken pinion Soars never so high again!

Truth's Prism

It glistens in the mellow glow of God's unending morn, A beacon star to light the way for legions yet unborn.

Thanks

For the great sky and the great seaAnd all the great strong things there be,We thank Thee, Lord!