If the pure in heart is that of a child’s,
then mine must still exist
somewhere underneath the scars and the dirt
the cuts and the bruises
longing to climb that hill and see God.
The hill his high and my heart is heavy.
I’ve climbed that hill before, when I was young
and my dreams were undefiled
and my ideals were still unchallenged.
Reality, sin, warped that heart
and the image of the body at war with it self
made one of the deepest cuts.
But the heart still beats. Perhaps, once those cuts are healed,
will see God at the top of the hill.
Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord?
And who shall stand in his holy place?
Those who have clean hands and pure hearts,
who do not lift up their souls to what is false,
and do not swear deceitfully.
They will receive blessing from the Lord,
and vindication from the God of their salvation.