GRACE LONG-FORGOTTEN

You think yourself virtuous, faithful, and true,
Faultless, flawless, perfection,
A bastion of moral superiority and authority,
Spitting image of God’s own true reflection.

But who are you to denounce the fallen?
What gives you the right to judge?
Sentencing from your pristine ivory tower,
Stubbornly refusing to budge.

You’ve no right to pontificate and condescend,
To the sorrowful whose lives are so burdened,
By chance, by fate, by regret, and disappointment,
Those abandoned, cast out, and deserted.

For you see but a single moment in time,
A life shattered by cruel circumstance,
A being who might have been glorious, divine,
One which cannot be known by first glance.

From your safe, lofty perch, far above the fray,
You pronounce remedies and rain down your wisdom,
But your words fall hollow, shallow, and cold,
Upon the ears of the unenlightened unforgiven.

Your curses and condemnations steal their hopes,
And crumble their precarious self-esteem,
Weigh mightily on their troubled minds and souls,
Resign them to mediocrity, crush their dreams.

You cannot inspire through loathing and contempt,
Though in your callous shadow they may cower,
You only frighten, discourage, enslave, enrage,
Cannot lift them by virtue of your own power.

Come down from the top of your towering mountain,
Step out of your unyielding fortress,
Walk among the lowly, the simple, the unassuming,
And for their grievances, offer remedy, redress.

Encourage the faithless who helplessly struggle,
Those blinded by the harshness of life,
Offer succor, mercy, and sweet gentle comfort,
Show them the beauty of the Light.

For you were once where they find themselves,
But for the smallest, simplest twist of fate,
And by the grace of God – long-forgotten,
You were granted the narrow and straight.

You retain your position, your stronghold,
Atop a tenuous, temporal throne,
On the wind, at the whim of the Power on High,
Through no effort or real merit of your own.

You were chosen to minister, serve, and attend,
Called to help the impoverished and downtrodden,
Not to bask in the glory of your personal fame,
Nor be self-centered, narcissistic, and haughty.

So, humble yourself before your Maker above,
Before the masses, bow low your pride,
Open your heart and restore your soul,
See the world with newly-found eyes.

Embrace and enfold the long-suffering others,
Hold them gently just under your wing,
Offer soft, soothing tunes of forgiveness,
And together, we will learn how to sing.