Weak, Like Me

Arrogance is weakness, too,
And hardness, self-love, lack of care;
And I, who like to pity my own broken self
Might spare a pang or two
For you, who, drifting from the Source of love and grace,
Are weak and lost in self and helpless,
Just like me.

God, widen me!
Stretch out my narrow mind and hardened heart and dimming sight,
And give me pity for the vengeful weak
Who swing with ineffective rage their sharpened swords
And recoiling, cut themselves with their own hurt.

Remove the stones that I have laid, with tender care for silken self,
Around my heart,
And let me feel the cut of words, the sting of hate;
Then heal me with Your love, and let me sing
A song of patient suffering
And pity for the weak like me;

Teach me to reach out gently to their hurt
With Your own heart
And feel the cut, but love despite
And, pitying, grow strong.