Scott Simpson · Poetry

The Real Estate of Faith

Restoration Blues · source pages 12

The original line breaks, stanza spacing, and placement are preserved. Long lines scroll horizontally.

Source page 12

We measured in square footage—

sanctuary seats, parking spaces,

the number of classrooms for Sunday School.

Success was a mortgage paid off,

not a widow fed, not a prisoner visited.

He walked barefoot on the dust,

never owned a single plot,

had no building fund or expansion plans.

He spoke of a kingdom like yeast,

like weeds breaking stone,

unmanageable, unsanctioned.

We kept a visitor count,

tracked giving, projected growth.

Measured the kingdom by metrics,

poured foundations for faith,

forgot the ground was never ours.

In the end, it’s about the walls

we built around the heart,

the way we dressed the gates

with flowers and verses,

hiding locks beneath the blooms.