THE POOR MAN IS COVENANT LOVE FROM THE START!

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Copper Bowl)

The poor man is seeking no mercy or aid.

By God he’s already been spared in his plight.

And once all the evils of earth start to fade,

He’ll step with his feet to the Day of Eternal light.

To receive there a comfort so bright, like a gleam,

And a peaceful repose like a wonderful stream,

From the open and pure, holy palm of a hand –

From the Hand of deep Grace that rules over the land.

The poor man despises no destiny sent.

He lives through his sorrow, his yoke, and his sigh.

To this earthly existence he came to be spent,

To die here below, so he lives up on high…

He envies no glory that comes from the clay,

For the power of the world he desires no part.

With two or three morsels of bread on his way,

With generosity, mercy, he burns in his heart.

The poor man has nothing to lose in the race,

For he hasn't acquired the things that depart…

He smiles as he welcomes the world's rough embrace,

And feels he is dear to the Lord’s holy heart.

And his spirit is opening wider each night,

Just like a white door that is shining with light –

To fan the most humble, small gift into flame,

Like a coal in the embers that honors His name.

The poor man is Covenant Love from the start.

A spirit that won the great Heavenly Share.

And even within his sad destiny's part,

He offered God’s kindness through trials and prayer…

The grief here below is a moment. A sigh.

And right after that – the Great Covenant Town.

No blood-sucking prices are rising up high,

No greed from the wicked world weighs a soul down.

The fortunate poor man returns to his home,

To rest after sorrow and grief in the dark.

While gazing with tenderness, under the dome,

The seven-hued Rainbow leaves on him its mark…