Lord, Thank you for saving the weak in Spirit

Here is a poem inspired by that opening line.

You come for the weak in spirit

You come for the weak in spirit with scripture, Not carved on stone,nor on a gilded page, But in the silence after the last tear falls, On the blank,white field of a soul’s deep winter.

Your word is the breath that fogs the cold glass, A promise whispered to the barren branch. It is the knot at the end of the rope,grown strange And soft,a root to hold when all else is passing.

You come not with a legion’s trumpet blast, But with the weight of a hand on a shaking shoulder, The scripture of presence,older than language, Written in the pulse where two shadows meet.

For the heart hollowed out by its own beating, You are the echo that answers back,“I am here.” For the mind lost in its own frantic city, You are the north star,dim but unwavering.

You come for the weak, not to make them strong, But to be the shore for their ceaseless tide, The quiet verse at the center of the storm, The single,steadfast syllable: Home.