This writing is almost the last poem Helen wrote.  It was published as a single work, but Helen actually considered it to be two poems.  In Absence from Felicity: The Story of Helen Schucman and Her Scribing of "A Course in Miracles," Kenneth Wapnick discusses this poem (p. 413-14, 2nd Ed.) and states that Helen asked him to draw a line to divide what she considered to be the two poems -- one with a Christmas/New Year's theme and one with an Easter theme.  Apparently there was a mistake in publishing this as one poem, although the combining of themes makes for an interesting and inspiring poetic message.  Out of respect for Helen's wishes a dividing line has been inserted.


        You think Him dead Who rose again for you,
        And so you cannot see the shining light
        In which you are delivered. Come, My child,
        And judge Him not. He is not dead. So bright
        His radiance that nothing still remains
        Obscured from Heaven in the doubt of night.

        So still the birth you did not understand
        Who came to you. Before your frightened eyes
        The Lord of light and life appears to fail
        His promises of Heaven's grace, and dies
        Forever on a cross. Nor can you see
        The Child of hope Who in a manger lies.

        The wise are silent. Stand you by a while
        And let the wise men show you what they see
        That came of you from stillness and from peace
        Which rest in you, but speak to them of Me.
        And then be comforted. The living Lord
        Has come again where He has willed to be.

        Wait now for morning. In the silence hear
        The winged whispering that hails the Son
        In quiet certainty and lovely calm
        Whom death released to life. He is the One
        For Whom you wait. Then look again on Him,
        And join His benediction, "It is done."


        He held you in His arms as He arose,
        And death was overcome. Yet on the hill
        Of dying you had fixed your eyes, it seemed
        As if forever. Now you wait until
        You look beyond the end you thought you saw,
        And see the Child Who is your first-born still.

        Think of this Child Who comes again. He is
        The Son Who seemed to die. He offers you
        The motherhood the shadow of a cross
        Appeared to take away. Yet round it grew
        The lilies of rebirth. Accept again
        The deathless One, the holy Son you knew.

        See not an ending where beginning is,
        Nor dark in sunlight. You who came to mourn,
        Remember now the ancient song of birth,
        And lay aside the signs of grieving worn
        By childless mothers. Lift your heart to Him,
        For once again to you a Child is born.

                 By Helen Schucman,
                 January 1, 1978
                 From The Gifts of God©, pp. 100-101
                 Published by the Foundation for Inner Peace
                 Reproduced here with permission

Reproduced with the kind permission of the
Foundation for A Course in Miracles
which holds copyright  in this work, ©1982

Links to some of Helen's poems from The Gifts of God

A Jesus Prayer
Awake In Stillness
Arise With Me
The Resurrection and the Life


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