Illumed by a Star

Since I am the pilot--

My ship built of days--

I sail for an islet

Beyond the earth-ways,

Its lighthouse a Temple

Illumed by a star--

The bells in its steeple

Call "Peace!" from afar.

I Shall Walk

Father, when Thou callest me,

Let it be in some still dawn,

Pearls of dew upon the lawn,

Love, my staff to lean upon.

Let the breath of dawning be

Fragrance from a wild rose lane--

Memories will ease my pain,

Love, remembered, heals again.

Death is kind and leads to Thee--

I shall walk, not bowed, but straight,

To the tasks that, for me, wait--

Not a harp--beyond Thy Gate.

Smiling He Comes

Sometimes when night's

Ethereal essence fills the silent air

And moonlight softly drapes her silvery cloak

Of gossamer about the sleeping earth,

Concealing all its scars, my mother-soul,

Filled with nostalgic yearning for that boy

Who left us in the pulsing dawn of youth,

Steps from its chrysalis of earthly flesh

And moves across a star-strung bridge of dreams.

Smiling he comes

Through portals hung with golden tapestry.

I take him gently in my hungry arms,

Caress his boyish face, his curling hair.

My first born son! The marks of death are gone:

The twisted foot is straightened, hands made whole;

The bruised flesh is restored ... No mortal wound

Upon his head ... He tells me of his dreams

And of his joy within the Master's kingdom.

There is no war.

This living son of mine! He is not dead!

For death is but the gateway into life

And happiness in God's own Empery.

Slowly the portals close. My lightened feet

Traverse again my star-strung bridge of dreams;

My soul accepts its temple. Comforted,

I walk all unafraid to meet the dawn.

Singing Pens

Heaven's Alchemy

When in my garden of Gethsemane

The sun was darkened and my song was stilled.

My heart was bleeding, for a part of me--

The boy I birthed and reared with love--was killed.

While spheres were clashing, Heaven's mighty power

Rebuilt my shattered kingdom when I said,

"Thy will be done." The moment--magic hour!

Restoring my torn soul. Upon my head

I felt a crown of peace I had not known.

The veil was thinned ... The Master at the helm

Let me behold my living son, His Own,

And see the beauty of His glorious realm,

Its kingdoms reaching far as thought can look--

Mortality but prefaces God's book.

Singing Pens

No Idle Playing on a Harp

The alluring

Grandeur of death

Bids me live gloriously-unafraid

In the now of the cycle.

Once, near the door

Death opened to admit a soul,

I glimpsed beauty unconceived before;

The burgeoning acres of immortality--

Every seed planted here, blossoming there;

The dream being builded;

A temple with carilloned towers arising,

The living builders singing the retrain,

"Nothing is lost, nothing is ever lost."

I shall welcome the silent restorer.

Unafraid, pass through the shadowed valley

To the blinding radiance awaiting

And accept the challenge--

No idle playing on a harp.

Different

I Too Shall Return

Dark echelons of wild geese race the breeze.
In answer to a mute yet urgent call
They are returning to their emerald seas
Of northern marshlands, where the waterfall
Released from winter's boundaries fills the swamp.
Would I might likewise soar--My coronet
Be clouds and stars--returning Home to romp
Through meadows of the sky. I shall forget
That I am tethered when I see the light
Of my Primeval Home; unerringly
Swift-spiral upward, know the joy of flight--
Not long, not long till I am tether-free!--
How fragile are the chains of earth when I
See geese in ordered pattern mark the sky.

Unending Victory

Why grieve for her

When death, the great physician, has released

Her spirit from its citadel of pain

Where she was prisoner and could not climb

To view the glory from the mountain tops?

Her heart was like a silent violin

That throbbed and wept with unvoiced melodies

Which even now on that Eternal Shore

Are bursting forth in joyous, vibrant tones

Whose echoes can be heard within our souls.

Her spirit that was waiting for release

Is soaring now and finding recompense

For all she could not do while tarrying here.

The doors, once closed, are swinging wide today--

A new world is before her to explore.

Then dry your tears and let your voices ring

And join with hers in glad, exultant song

That death has brought unending victory.

Reflections

Silver Sorrow

When death
Closes one door
Another opening
Reveals a silver pathway with
A sign of stars: NOTHING IS LOST!

By a Lily

My soul knew Gethsemane's sorrow:
My son, grown to manhood, was killed.
My song and my laughter were silenced;
I wept for his dreams unfulfilled.

Then I entered my beautiful garden
And knelt by a lily to pray,
And the infinite peace of the Master
Drove bitter despairing away;

For the Lily had lived through the winter,
Not dead but hidden from view--
The Master speaks in a garden,
My son was living, I knew.

Etchings

Knowing that she had gone to live in the New Tomorrow,
Rowing across the river to the Elysian shore,
Praying I stood beside her feeling the peace of angels;
Saying a low farewell, I saw on her dear old face:

Etchings of children's laughter, lullabies dreamland winging;
Sketchings of sleeping babes, of hands that were clasped in prayer;
Beauty of homey living, filled with fire-opaled wonder;
Duty that yielded glory tuned with the lyre of joy;

Rearing of valiant sons, then having them die as martyrs;
Cheering of war-torn hearts that bled from the saber's kiss;
Sadness that dolorous drums were beating of greed and envy;
Gladness that love would triumph--etched by the artist, time.

My Heart Believes

Love, are you lonely there below
Remembering still another May
We knew and shared in the long ago
Before God called and I went away?
Lift up your eyes, my dear, and know
That I am lonely as you today.

Though I am lonely as you today,
My yearning spirit no longer grieves,
For the Heavenly pattern I now survey--
The tapestry which the Master weaves--
With its golden threads illuming the gray.
My dearest, I call that my heart believes ...

Oh, dearest, call that your heart believes
That death is birth--Hear my triumph cry:
Nothing is lost that the flesh achieves!
Look up, for together, you and I
Will live our dreams, for Heaven retrieves--
Love, be not lonely there below.

To Higher Pastures

In the still morning
After a soft-voiced rain,
Let me hear the rinsed voices of larks
And, looking up,
See Pegasus in paling star-lanes
And know
That I may grasp the golden reins
To guide him to cloud-high pastures.

Let me stand tall upon a hilltop
And know there are grazing lands
Above the stars.

Kingdom of the Free

Walk unafraid and bear a joyous load,
Adventure beckons all along the road.
Fear not the trail may end, but know this truth:
The twilight hours complete the dreams of youth.

Then comes the night when from its chrysalis
The soul steps forth to cross the last abyss--
And finds beyond, a sphere devoid of sorrow;
For death leads onward to a new tomorrow.

The spirit, eagle-pinioned, stands upon
Celestial heights to greet the glorious dawn,
And sees the light of immortality
Illuminate the Kingdom of the Free.

The Lyric

Beyond the Final Curtain

So this is death! Speak softly lest she waken
From her deep, painless sleep to hear our sighing.
Her fragile heart that was so often shaken
Has found the crown of all content in dying.

For on her face no lines are etched of sorrow;                                                                                                                                                    
She has recaptured youth, forgotten sadness.
I wonder, does she find the New Tomorrow
All that she dreamed, a sphere of hope and gladness?

Her worn old willing hands, at last, are resting;                                                                                                                                                  
Her slowing feet are stilled, yet I am certain
Celestial heights will always find her questing,
Could we but see beyond the final curtain.

Poet's Reed

In a Country Garden

When I must leave the earth, I hope to see
The gentle Master by a willow tree,
A wild canary pouring forth its song,
And a little river dancing all along
Its way through gardens. I would feel alone
And shy before Him on a golden throne,
But in a country garden, He would reach
His arms to me and speak the simple speech
I know. And I would run the Him and say,
"I'm glad you have a garden. May I stay
And help you tend it? Then I would not grieve
For all earth's beauty that I had to leave.
I know the ways of gardens, country-wild ..."
And he would smile and answer, "Yes, my child."

Not Far from Earth

I ask not for the highest, brightest star
On which to dwell;
But give me a little twinkling one
So near the earth I love
That I can smell
The pines upon the mountains
And the sweet breath of wild roses
By the lanes;
And hear the gentle lowing of cattle
In clover meadows
Where timid new-born foal
Toss their silken manes--
A little star so near to earth that I,
When looking down
At dusk upon a quiet town,
Can watch the stars come out among the trees
And name them, lingering long
Upon the one I love.
I ask not for the highest,brightest star
But a twinkling one not far from earth, not far.

He Will Be Waiting You

The son God loaned you for a few short years
To love and cherish while on earth he trod
Is living still, so dry your anguished tears
Saying, "Thy will be done," nor question God
Who in His love and wisdom called him Home.
Could you but lift the veiling you would see
Him with the chosen ones on Heavenly loam
Walking through meadows of Eternity
Caressing the white lilies, with his hand
In that of Jesus, seeking lambs that stray
In fields of Paradise ... There in that land
When you are called at closing of your day,
He will be waiting you ... This truth will bless,
So let your tears be prayers of thankfulness.

A Boy, a Dog, and Immortality

A staccato bark
and a small boy's laughter
danced through my flowers.

Long months after
the laugh was stilled,
the collie would wait
with hopeful eyes
at my garden gate.

When a careless gun
rang the dog's death-chime,
the small boy died a second time.

That night through star-blossoms in the sky
danced a collie's bark and a boy's glad cry.

In the Land of Sleep

Melvin

I thank the Lord for night; it brings him here
That I may mother him a little while--
This son of mine who sometimes seems so near
To me that I can almost see his smile.
When in my sleep, he walks and talks with me,
Tells me about his full life Over There,
And of his dreams--of how his soul is free.
Again he lets me comb his wayward hair.
I marvel at his manliness and charms--
The little boy is gone; this is a man.
I hold him close within my hungry arms;
I ease my aching heart while yet I can.
Then I awaken peaceful, comforted--
This living son of mine! He is not dead!