For the Ragamuffins [poem, rough cut]

this is for the broken onessmart enough to know how foolish they are this is for the ones who have tried and found life lacking This is for those not content to confess that THIS is all there is

this is for wearied ones fighting the fads of wondering if our crying hearts might drown us It is for those who know our tears are telescopes to heaven looking through trembling lenses for hope and deeper senses of home

this is for those who don't need church to be a menagerie of SAINTS but an emergency room for sinners It is for those whose shadows are faint from finding too much light

It is for those who step out onto nothing hoping to land on something because accepting that you are accepted is a perception of yourself not everyone can afford

But this is for the wobbly and weak-kneed who have let loose the luxury of denying a handout of amazing grace

This is for those who chose a path, though straight and narrow, is still rugged and beaten

You are still on the right track

This is for the phobic confessors who could never match the projections Of the pious It is for those to whom perfection is a gangly wire no one could ever walk

This is for the child who holds that heaven is full of five-year-olds sparing themselves the futility of proving themselves to people who will never speak their language Of half cartoon, half boo-boo, and half "Daddy, I love you."

3 halves make one more than whole

Do not accept yourself only as you should be but as you are because you will never be as you should be

Quit rinsing your filthy rags in gas station bathrooms as if hand soap and make-believe will make them believe you belong

But you belong

You belong to a kingdom belonging to people not trying to be cleaner than they are

You belong

This is for the sin-soaked and broken who are loved and outspoken knowing un   worthy is not the same as worth   less

This is for the paupers who have made peace with their flaws and their friends it is for those who have prayed in silence but never ceased to pray

This is for you Do not for one second take it for granted

Be certain your gift is contagious

Though it is yours to have it's value is only in it's giving away

Make sure your every conversation leaves a sensation of love

Because this

is where the mighty descend and the lowly rise to comprise what we all crave

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This piece is a sort of honor for a hero of mine. As I see video footage of Brennan, my heart sinks at seeing him fade away. This is still a very rough cut for this piece (I'm not even sure I'll keep the title). I want to take it to a couple writers' groups and see if I can refine it some more.