blessed are the merciful

Blessed are the merciful,
The ones who give kindness away,
When all around would assert their rights,
You let go that others need not pay.

Though we may not see it so,
Showing mercy lies in the will of those who have,
Who have the rights to yield,
Who have the choice to choose,
The sinners and the wretched.
Casting aside their dignity and honour,
Unmoved by the shame that others cannot see past.

And so we give and surrender,
Not till it hurts but till all is gone,
And the respect and name that we lose,
Is nothing to be mourned or missed.
For our only honour is His own mercy,
In which alone we hope and owe our lives.

Matt. 5: 7

sč
Singapore, October 26th, 2007

captivate

Like a babe grasping father's fingers,
An infant watching falling water,
A child at dragons and knights,
Or the lowlander at mountain's peak.

Like the norsemen's yearly sunrise,
Or first Man's first love,
Like the waiter pouring water and finding wine,
Or the right-minded fisherman finding left-minded fish,
Like the fatherless son finding a home,
Only to see it had pursued him all along.

You arrest my attention,
Dropping my jaw with wonder.
Quieten my excuses,
Enveloping my questions,
And making me Your captive.

sč
Singapore, October 24th, 2007

sustain (into a child)

High above the ground,
Small feet dangling over,
Seated, waiting, at rest,
Every need known and attended.

Worry a word unknown,
Trust a natural choice,
For before my asking even,
Each meal, each garment given.

But with time and childish things to lose,
Did growing up mistake the childlike ways to include?
As anxiety would rule my thoughts,
Me, the master of my destiny,
If only destiny had been told to cooperate.

So, as older and older I am,
There is less and less I can,
And clearer and brighter my eyes do see.
For every breath, every step and more,
Is the path You open to lay out,
While others I'd taken for granted You close away.
In every part, my life You sustain,
Raising, growing me into a child again.

sč
Singapore, October 23rd, 2007

zede

Dear Zede, you grin.
Chuckling silently, shy eyes twinkling,
Oh, to know what dreams your heart is wishing!

Never luxury, but both from and into,
Were you born the seed of faith of two,
Your life to speak that we would hear,
'He, only He is, my salvation.'

Now, for stubborn legs,
And a body weighed to this earth,
You are borne on the love and prayers,
Of them that chose not this burden,
But would not trade it, if only to see you fly.

So dream away, dear Zede,
Not the dreams to escape existence,
But His vision that is whole and hope,
That breathes into your weary spirit and bones,
And calls you forth, "Rise up, my precious one."

sč
KL, October 4th, 2007