“Blessed are the poor in spirit – theirs is the kingdom of heaven!”
What a sentence! How much meaning, wisdom, and simple authority in these words! Praise Him!
The following poem is a paean to these special souls.
The poor in spirit are sore blessed.
They stand on an honest ground,
Aware both of their strength and lack;
Of being often lost and daily found.
Their honesty, meshed with humility,
Finds issue in authentic presence.
Past and future are given respect,
But now is their main residence.
They recoil from fundamentalism,
Preferring the brake of uncertainty,
To the pell mell stampede of right,
Bulling to god-sanctioned barbarity.
They hold each person as anointed
By the oil of a dear bought sacrifice;
Precious beyond words, god-kissed,
The ultimate good, beyond all price.
The will of God is their daily bread.
When they say ‘Lord’ – Lord means Lord.
The continual struggle to discern Him:
Such submission is no pious fraud.
They stand bereft of life’s conceits,
Relying not on the comfort in things,
But stark in their felt brokenness,
Braving to face what each day flings.
Whereas others nest themselves snug,
Feathered with noise, and fussing with toys,
These pilgrims walk wisely in prayer,
Content with the pace the Spirit employs.
Poor in this world but eyes on the next,
Their true treasure gaining its yield.
Foolish to the crowds on the broad way,
Narrow tunnel vision, one day revealed.
They are all mankind’s leaven:
Theirs IS the kingdom of heaven.