I stand at the pulpit watching

Their eyes beckon me to speak

My soul screams in silent anguish

For I cannot give them what they desire

These words have beginnings and ends

And no heart finds content in things that die

Even if woven into angelic melodies

At best speech serves to point the way

My thoughts lash out

Do you not see? Your whole being seeks experience

You cannot just listen – you must follow the way

My soul gently reproaches me

“Did you not sit where they sit now?”

I nod my head in agreement

“Do you save or does the One save?”

I bow my head in shame

“When they are ready they shall receive”

I understand now but there is more

“Don’t judge too quickly

There are many that you see but fail to perceive”

In a flash golden-white crowns appear above their heads

They are well on their way and much further along than I

For the space above my head is empty

Now I know how wrong it is to judge too quickly