Aesthetic sensibility
has been
decreeing that
I should not sing
hymns lustily,
a trifle sharp or flat.
Musicians wince
as I intone
pure praise
and real thanksgiving.
This second form of
worship gives me
such a zest for living!
I’m sure God can distinguish
a false note
from the start;
but does he
analyze the voice—
or listen to the heart?

Ode for Those Called to Counsel

I intend
To talk less and listen more,
To listen intently and understand more,
To comment less and absorb more,
To criticize less and to empathize more.
I intend
To suggest less and to help more,
To judge slowly and ponder longer,
To prod less and to compliment more,
Yes, to intend less, but to do more.


Inside the house fire-flames are leaping
Where father, mother, children gather
Safe and close from stormy weather.
Warmth pervades, and each is cherished;
Family ties grow vital, strong,
Making memories and song,
Building strength for all the years,
And the faith to withstand fears,
With the confidence each needs.
Then no matter where they roam,
Always in their minds, this picture;
Always in their hearts, their home.