by Cathy Wittmeyer
1. Blessed are the poor, the kingdom shall be theirs.
3. Blessed are they who are meek and humble, they will inherit the earth.
– Matthew 5:3-12
your pain the thought of you in pain
invokes the words of an old hymn
seeping into the grey palette that is a fog-filled valley
meeting the sky seamless the first verse on repeat
blessed are they who are poor in spirit troubles me
calvinist revision blessed are the poor the poor
those pietists forgot the part about the camel
passing through the needle’s eye blessed themselves
in spirit not in the text paved their own rich path
to heaven not in the sermon on the mountain but in the hymn on repeat
in my head your pain brought the song back you poor thing
blessed with heaven & I want more for you more than heaven
the lyrics continue the meek & humble blessed too & the reward
earth the enveloping cloud echoes with applause
your suffering earthbound the place where you wait
in the line to heaven your bequest with humility
you meek one some days maybe you just get a little dirt the days
the pain is too much to bear quietly these lines come back
blessed are the poor you’ve got earth, babe
you & all the other meek & humble of the planet
the poor in spirit have acidified its heavens the ones you’ll get later
that tumble in violent storms douse raging infernos of trees
knock out power upend dinner tables bury night-shift commuters in blizzards
& this soil is rank with festering mine drainage deplete of any stone
you might call precious but it is yours for being timid the poor in spirit
thank you for not complaining about your inheritance sans diamonds
on your way to paradise the one they carved out for themselves
your pain is entering my own bones no
it’s the fog so thick & cold it penetrates blessed
does the promise of a kingdom lift the cloud?
dissipate the mist? make it easier to breathe? my lungs feel ice crystals
you’ve got the whole world no that’s another hymn
stay here awhile sit sing with me these lyrics from the mount
you get an ethereal realm for being poor
& strong of spirit that’s how I see it through the fog
::
Cathy Wittmeyer is a lawyer and poet from Buffalo, NY. She works in Dornbirn, Austria. Her poem “Possession,” received an honorable mention in the 2018 Lauren K. Alleyne Difficult Fruit Poetry Prize. She earned her MFA in poetry from Carlow University in 2020. Her chapbook, knotted, was a finalist for the 2020 Broken River Prize. Her work has appeared in The Tiny Journal, Tangled Locks Journal and Book of Matches among others. Cathy hosts the Word to Action writing retreat in the Alps. See more at https://cathywittmeyer.com
Image: Oscar Hernàndez
Psaltery & Lyre 