Oh, my little, stupid, ragtag people! Least and last. My frightened mob, defending little kingdoms, little dreams, whilst all around the universe is ticking, ticking. Bereft of horizon, bereft of God, building fragile walls between your heart and reality and propping them up with small hopes.
Tomorrow will be better, there will be sunlight and happiness and cake on the table again and no more crying salt water tears.
You who do not trust and are not trusted, you who turn from light to walk in the shadowed hinterlands- I love you! And yet you look at me with fear beneath the contempt, and turn me away with raised fists and shrieked curses.
Little people, small people, look to the skies. There is more, oh, there is more. But you keep your eyes on the dust, while I stand and gesticulate, crying for you to look up. You want to stay plodding, you want to not be brave, to stance like the dull stones in the desert, weeping sand.
You hide in the rubbish, in the dirt, afraid of being healed. The hated with no reason to love, too broken to defend yourselves. Gather to me.
Why are you afraid of salvation? Do you think you are not worthy? No. No.
Come to the fire, the rain, the wind and the edge. Step over it, and I will hold your hand. Be clean.
Pull the blinkers from your eyes, push them open against the light. See how you are priceless because you are worthless, how I care for you because someone has to.
Stand against the world and push its restraints away. Let me lead you out of this place, this prison. Let me attach wings to your soul and push you into fresh air.