Poem August 4, 1951 Issue

AT A LECTURE

Roberta Joan Seiferth

WHAT was it the lecturer said? I can be healed? Can this be true? But how was this revealed?

He held the little gold-leafed book on high,
and suddenly I knew that I must try
to understand, as others had, the Way;
to lecturer said that I could start today!

With joy I walked to thank him; then I found
my limb that had been stiffened was unbound—
healed, too, a long-held hardness toward another,
whom now I welcomed warmly as my brother!

Roberta Joan Seiferth

Send a comment to the editors

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE

Editorial

THE DAY OF MIRACLES IS NEVER PAST