Poem September 4, 1995 Issue

An angel at midnight

Kurt Lancaster

Throes of thought,
screaming for attention,
cut the midnight silence.

And, oh, it seems so real—
the selfish pain of loneliness,
wanting another to fill
empty mortal desires.

But, in agonizing struggle:

"Come hither!"...
an angel touch
closer than a kiss
gently whispers.

"Arise from your false consciousness
into the true sense of Love,
and behold the Lamb's wife,—
Love wedded to its own spiritual idea."^{Mary Baker Eddy, Science and Health, p. 575.}

Tears melt the stolid selfishness
as the flesh wrestles with Spirit,
and what had seemed such an empty heart
fills with love, joy, peace, from God;
goodness, faith, temperance,^{See Gal. 5:22, 23.}
and the control of Soul.

Peace returns...
a gentle enfolding...
in the arms of divine Love.

Send a comment to the editors

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE

Editorial

Goals, priorities— and spiritual discernment