She runs after you like a child seeking play, like the wind’s tease on a warm summer day. Mercy is her name.
Looks to be acknowledged, called, considered; stands by like a shadow, peeks through the door of every contrite and hardened heart. Mercy is her name.
Most wanted by the sorrowful, most needed by the prideful, most cherished by the humble, a requirement for the scornful, like air is to lungs. Life. Mercy is life.
Giving. Mercy is life-giving, the queen of second chances, the daughter of concern. Mercy is human.
It is. Humanity. Mercy is humanly-concerned, will err on the side of love, will forgive to give, forgive to release, forgive to live.