Walking alone along the High Street,
buffeted by bags, by backpacks,
deafened by mobile conversations, by voices
screaming with annoyance or over-excitement,
it seems I have lost the Kingdom of Heaven.
Praying in church, it had come alive.
People were smiling, quiet, courteous;
we were all moving in a dance
to strands of music, harmonies
which blessed and healed each other.
We were so glad to be together.
I am not glad in this raucous road,
watching the crosspatch ignorant faces,
the bitterly old, the rebellious young.
I’m told they are part of God’s world,
that I should be feeling the Holy Spirit’s
transforming power within them all,
bringing unrecognisable joy
over them like a rising sun,
spreading its influence, warming them.
Would it be nothing but make-believe?
Am I imagining? Could it make them
changed and at peace? No. It seems that only I
can be certain of change,
that I must suddenly see them different,begin to understand their frets and frailties, must pass them in peace and be ready to laugh
when all of a sudden they bump into me.
Thine is the Kingdom
Sylvia Read