"Blessed are the pure in heart"

Austere country, this, scrubbed

By spring's ravaging avalanche.

Talus slope and Appekunny

Mudstone make a meadow where

High-country beargrass gathers light

From lichen, rock, and icy tarn,

Changing sun's lethal rays

To food for grizzlies, drink for bees--

Heart-pure creatures living blessed

Under the shining of God's face.

Yet, like us the far-fallen,

Neither can they look on the face

And live. Every blossom's a breast

Holding eventual sight for all blind and

Groping newborn: we touch our way

Through these splendors to glory.

...from "Holy Luck" ...from the book, "Subversive Spirituality" ...by Eugene Peterson

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...also from "The Message": Matthew 5:

You are blessed when you get your inside world--your mind and heart--put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.