Is not a word
but a movement.
It stoops beside the broken man,
bleeding by the road,
and will not pass by.

It does not tally wrongs
like coins in a ledger,
but breaks the scale
and offers bread instead.

Mercy speaks softly
to the woman in shame,
“Neither do I condemn you,”
and in the same breath:
“Go, sin no more.”
It is not indulgence.
It is invitation to restoration.

It stretches out hands
on splintered wood,
praying for those
who hammer nails,
forgiving before we even ask.

It sees the leper,
the beggar,
the thief,
the Pharisee,
and loves them all
into wholeness.

Mercy is not safe.
It will cost you
comfort,
pride,
convenience.

But it is blessed.
And those who walk in it
will know the heart of God
because mercy is not a thing He gives,
it is who He is.