But Least of These, Forsaken, Sought for Theirs – Sonnet Thirty-One

In mountain’s top proclaim, we broken find,
A sun to warm our hearts and word our souls.
We stand before the love they brought, divined
That sick should heal and wayward, lost, console.
 
They sought in darkened place the huddled mass,
The ones that “holy” shun in hatred shown.
The “holy” would unworthy God surpass,
The ones beneath their care, that Hell-fires own.
 
But least of these, forsaken, sought for theirs,
The ones that know the suffering of heart,
The ones that spread a love in others care,
A fam’ly of all souls that feel apart.
 
The “holy” in “self-righteous” seek reward,
The true ones, in their love, seek souls restored.