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Slavery to the fear of death, Dr Beck. When we can locate our identity in God's glorious grace, loving kindness and promises kept (and so much else!) on the cross, we can be released from worry, anxiety, the fear of all the forms of "death" this world has to offer, and free to love our brothers and sisters as well as our enemies. I learned that in a book somewhere....

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**Title: The Weight of Empty Treasures**

Yvon Roustan ©

The bars are cold, but colder still

the coins we clutch in trembling hands—

they click like keys to hollow vaults,

their echoes map our prison’s lands.

The sparrow lands on rusted chains,

its song a psalm we strain to hear.

It feeds on crumbs the wind has strewn,

while we count bread in folds of fear.

The lilies wear no warden’s stripes,

their gold unspun by fretful looms.

Their roots drink deep a hidden stream

that pools beyond our vaulted rooms.

We thread our days through needles’ eyes,

obsessed with moths that gnaw our coats.

The light we hoard turns thick as pitch,

a blindness garbed in banker’s notes.

Two masters carve our hearts in halves:

one pours the wine, the other thirst.

Our prayers, like receipts, fill the air—

the god we serve exacts the first.

The barns we build for phantom grain

cast shadows where the soul once stood.

Each rusted hinge, each splintered board,

confesses rot beneath the wood.

The watchman scans the night for thieves,

yet dawn still breaks, unasked, unseen.

The field’s slow bloom outlives our haste,

its clockwork set to evergreen.

We mend the nets but miss the sea,

knot worry into every strand.

The tide still rolls its silver tongues—

it needs no wage to kiss the sand.

The kingdom’s gate swings on no hinge,

no coin can catch its latch or lock.

We kneel to dig in dirt for gems

and find our palms around a rock.

But here, where chains confess their rust,

the sparrow’s hymn rewrites our vows.

We lay our treasures in the dirt—

the earth grows warm beneath the plough.

*************^******************

**Explanation:**

**Stanza 1:** Opens with the juxtaposition of physical imprisonment and the metaphorical prison of materialism. “Coins” symbolize misplaced trust in wealth, their hollow sound reflecting spiritual emptiness. The “vaults” and “prison’s lands” suggest self-imposed confinement through greed.

**Stanza 2:** Contrasts human anxiety with the sparrow’s innate trust in providence. The bird’s song, a natural “psalm,” highlights divine care, while “bread counted in folds of fear” critiques scarcity mindset.

**Stanza 3:** Lilies embody unforced flourishing, opposing human labor driven by anxiety. “Warden’s stripes” metaphorically link societal control to self-imposed rigidity, while “hidden stream” signifies grace beyond material reach.

**Stanza 4:** Needle’s eye references Jesus’ teaching on wealth. “Moths” and “light turned pitch” illustrate how materialism corrupts vision, equating financial obsession with spiritual blindness.

**Stanza 5:** Divided loyalty between God and wealth fractures the self. “Prayers like receipts” reduce spirituality to transactional exchanges, critiquing performative faith.

**Stanza 6:** “Barns for phantom grain” symbolize futile accumulation. Rot beneath “splintered board” reveals the decay inherent in hoarding, contrasting with enduring spiritual wealth.

**Stanza 7:** The watchman’s futile vigilance contrasts with dawn’s unstoppable arrival. Nature’s “evergreen clockwork” underscores trust in cyclical, divine provision over human control.

**Stanza 8:** Fishing nets mended but unused symbolize preoccupation with preparation over living. The tide’s “silver tongues” represent grace’s persistence without human effort.

**Stanza 9:** The kingdom’s gate, inaccessible through wealth, critiques transactional spirituality. “Digging for gems” only to find rocks mirrors the folly of misplaced pursuit.

**Stanza 10:** Conclusion in liberation through surrender. “Chains confess their rust” signifies decay of materialism. Laying treasures down parallels biblical sowing, implying spiritual harvest. The “plough” symbolizes active, faith-driven release from anxiety.

The poem interweaves biblical imagery with modern materialism, framing anxiety as a symptom of misplaced devotion. It avoids moralizing, instead inviting reflection on how “treasures” shape emotional landscapes.

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👍

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Thank you for this one.

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