Beatitudes without attitude

A poem.

Blessed are the unassuming: for theirs is the kingdom of gratitude.

Blessed are the rivers: for they shall carry away the burning boats of sorrow.

Blessed are the still waters: beside which we shall be led.

Blessed are the apostates of money and power: for theirs is the domain of freedom.

Blessed are the intake workers at homeless shelters: for theirs is the kingdom of mercy.

Blessed are they who profoundly ignore the fascination of the herd: for they shall escape hook, line and sinker.

Blessed are the wrens that dart about in blackberry bushes: theirs is the provenance of happiness.

Blessed are the eyes of sculptors and painters: for theirs is the realm of sight.

Blessed are the hands of potters: for they shall be called stewards of the second chance.

Blessed are those who topple the idols of mass culture: for they shall be called curators of light.

Blessed are the Great Grey owls: given to glide through parallel kingdoms.

Blessed are the gardeners: for they are the tilth of the earth.

Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.

Blessed are they that linger, astonished at hibiscus: for they shall be refueled.

Blessed are the cigar rollers, brew masters and vintners: period.

Blessed are the prairie sloughs: where kingdoms of cattails await red-winged romances.

Blessed are the cardboard boxes: for they shall inherit mountains of memories.

Blessed are they who resist the K-Mart Caesar and all the little Neros: they shall sleep well at night.

Blessed are the power outages: for theirs is the reign of lit-candles with family and friends at kitchen tables.

Blessed are the bakers: that is obvious.

Blessed are the spiralling, hovering gulls: for theirs is the wisdom of wind.

Blessed is the waggle dance of bees: world of intelligence, truth and understanding.

Blessed is the eternal heretic: whose love yet reclines within us.

Blessed is the rising sun, the enduring earth, the forgiving seas: hear their groans of longsuffering grace.   


  • Stephen T. Berg

    Stephen is a poet and writer, with a background in agriculture and social care, living in Victoria, B.C.

You just read something for free. How can a small Canadian publication offer quality, award-winning content online with no paywall?

Because of the generosity of readers like you.

Be our


Just think about Vincent van Gogh, who only sold one painting in his lifetime. How did he keep going? Because of the support of his brother, Theo. And now over 900 exceptional Vincent van Gogh paintings are famous worldwide.

You can be our Theo.

As you read this, we’re hard at work on new content. Like Vincent, we’re trying to create something unique. Hope-filled, independent journalism feels just as urgent and just as unlikely as van Gogh’s bold brushstrokes. We need readers like you who believe in this work, and who provide us with the resources to do it. Enable us to pursue stories of renewal:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *