The Searching - Luke 6 Part 2

Love crosses farther than return,
past bargain, thanks, and gain;
it walks toward those who hate us still
and will not answer pain with pain.

The curse stays curse, the blow stays blow,
the wound is wound, not seed;
pain need not plant its likeness there
nor ripen into deed.

A cheek is struck, a cloak is seized,
a beggar waits nearby;
the hand that grips its goods must hear
the hunger’s answering cry.

The fist can open without praise,
the debt can lose its claim;
a gift need not come home again
before it bears love’s name.

God gives where gratitude is gone,
where thanks do not return;
his mercy moves beyond our due,
beyond the good we earn.

Mercy searches what we keep—
our grudges and our gold;
the wound we nurse, the debt we count,
the judgments that we hold.

On level ground the judge must stand
beside the one accused;
the eye that finds another’s speck
must bear the light it used.

A beam lies nearer than the flaw
we name in someone’s sight;
the hand that reaches toward their eye
must first come into light.

The measure pressed against a life
returns with equal weight;
the scale we lift for someone else
will find us soon or late.

The blind lead blind men toward the pit,
both stumbling side by side;
the pupil, fully formed, will bear
the teacher’s shape inside.

Each tree tells truth by fruit it bears,
the laden branch bends low;
no name can sweeten bitter fruit,
no praise can change what grows.

What gathers slowly in the heart
will gather on the tongue;
the mouth will bear the hidden store
from which its words are sprung.

The name of Lord may fill the mouth
while hands refuse the truth;
but deeds will show what words conceal,
and fruit disclose the root.