Blessed are the spiritually poor,
Those who struggle at times,
Those who find the going tough,
Those who do not feel very spiritual.
Those who find the narrow road a challenge,
Those who are grateful for a genuine,
Down-to-earth, say-it-like-it-is saviour.
Those who trip over their own feet,
Or place them firmly in their mouths.
Those for whom the river of life
Frequently bursts its banks.
Blessed are the poor in spirit,
There are many of us,
So we are not alone.
And the Hero we look to,
Who redeems our muddles and mistakes,
The one we praise and thank,
And call for help,
Is understanding and spends his days,
And nights, with folk like us.