The Highest Place
I sought the throne of honor high,
Where crowns and praises touch the sky.
I dreamed of titles carved in gold,
Of power, fame, and hands to hold.
But when I reached the mountain’s crest,
And stood where pride had claimed its best,
I saw a King—so pure, so meek—
Whose glory shone upon the weak.
His throne was not of earthly might,
But mercy’s flame and heaven’s light.
And there I learned, with trembling heart,
Where true exalted souls depart.
For higher than all thrones of men,
Is kneeling down before Him then.
The greatest crown one soul can meet—
Is dust and tears at Jesus’ feet.
The highest rank, the grandest call,
Is losing self to give Him all.
For glory blooms where pride retreats—
The highest place… is at His feet.
© 2025 Dennis Macusi. All rights reserved.
This poem is an original work by the author and may not be reproduced, distributed, or used without permission
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