To the beloved Scoffer by Kai-Anne Clews

You say my Jesus is a fantasy A fairy story, an ancient myth, with zero worth. You so frightened of this intimacy, That comes along with the second birth. Like a mother and a child are likened to one flesh So too all those who are reconciled, To begin again, and start afresh! There IS no earthly equivalent For what takes place in the converting heart. There IS no earthly metaphor For the sting of that fiery dart. There IS nothing I can tell you Lest the Holy Spirit Himself brings illumination, Only then can understanding dawn, And you’ll plainly perceive your destination. So I am terribly sorry, My lament is not a lie, If you’ve yet to receive that brightness, To change and sharpen your eye. It is ought a mystery, How some are yet to come to Faith, But know that we the faithful, pray for you, To enter in those blessed gates.