[Written for the Sentinel]

Love's Channels

Far on the other side of arid waste
Which stood betwixt my brother-man and me,
I saw him stand and, bowed in deep distress,
Reach out his hands and call imploringly.

I stood there helpless, so it seemed at first,
And gazing o'er that dry and desert space
Seemed conscious only of my powerlessness,
And saw naught but the anguish in his face.

How could I aid him; what should be the means
By which to reach him in that barren land?
But ah! had I forgot so easily
The admonition dear, and just at hand?

"Make channels for the streams of love," it said,
Unsee the mortal man as Jesus would;
And in its place hold thought unceasingly
To that real, perfect man, the son of God.

I did, and, lo! I saw the streams of love
Fill swift to overflow the channels broad;
The promise was fulfilled, my brother-man,
Healed, strengthened, saved, was free, at peace
with God.

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December 28, 1929

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