Poem April 8, 1985 Issue

Reaching

NORMAN DWIGHT CARY

How many, as the Master walked along,
Held back from asking for his help, were awed,
Or disbelieved, or doubted? Yet the throng
Held some who recognized their lives were flawed
By sickness, sin, or grief. The leper cried,
Some blind called out, told Jesus of their plight,
A woman mourning that her son had died—
Then through their faith they felt Christ's healing
light.
Do we reach for the Christ in fervent prayer?
Do we call out, expecting to be whole?
Then, we won't let Love's Christ pass by. Right there
We'll know God's harmony—the realm of Soul.
As we stretch thought, beholding God's reflection,
We'll feel Immanuel—know man's perfection.

NORMAN DWIGHT CARY

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