psalm 74: monsters unvanquished

Sea-monster_Terme_di_Nettuno_Ostia_Antica_2006-09-08
there are times when
i think the very beginning
must have been a labor of love,
every element rapturously built
upon the last, yet somehow
far beyond the sum of its parts,
a world created and re-created
in perfect equilibrium.

then there are times
when the universe seems
forever straining at the seams,
primordial waters leaking
through the cracks,
still you valiantly battle on,
trying your best to
drive back the forces of chaos.

so tell me, when i look
deep into your darkness,
what will i find?
will i be greeted by
the stillness of the night
that must surely follow day
or will i plunge into the mad raging
of sea monsters unvanquished?

psalm 69: mad pursuit

walking-in-dark-street
it’s because of you, you know
this shame, this strange isolation of mine
it’s all because of you.

at times it feels as if
my zeal for you has been my downfall
i glimpse your face and turn to
pursue you with ever-increasing desperation,
only to look back and discover
i am completely and utterly alone.

so i’ve decided to end the chase and
send out this simple prayer instead:
don’t hide from me.
don’t let me sink down.
don’t let the floodwaters wash me away.

i have a suspicion these words will
succeed where i have failed.
while you duck and evade
my every move, i know
you secretly love these kinds of songs,
particularly when they come from the depths
of a crushed and broken spirit.

in the meantime i’ll just sit here
on the side of the road and
await your reply,
please don’t be insulted i just
need to rest from this mad pursuit,
you know i’ve just grown
so tired, i’m just
so very, very
tired.

psalm 47: the terms of their surrender

photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org

photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org

when they put us to the sword,
they clapped their hands and
raised a joyous shout:

our lord, they cried, is king
over all the earth;
let us sing to the most high,
the one who subjects peoples to our will
and lays nations down at our feet.

oh yes, we know this song,
we sang it once ourselves, though
at the time we thought
it was a victory cry or a
psalm of deliverance, or maybe
a kind of crazy, passionate
love poem.

let them sing their songs –
when their new lover moves on
and their cities have been
laid to waste,
they’ll realize all too soon
that their hymn of praise
to the most high
was really a cry of terror, or
a song of fealty to
the neighborhood bully,
or maybe it was just the terms
of their surrender.

psalm 46: waters of refuge

photo credit: sciencedaily.com

photo credit: sciencedaily.com


astonishing how one’s world can be
ripped asunder with brutal efficiency:
tectonic plates shift less than a millimeter
and mountains crumble to the ground;
a ripple widens ever so gently
in the midst of the waters and
soon families, homes, whole nations
are washed to the sea.

yet far from the surface destruction,
somewhere deep inside, there are waters
even the mightiest elements cannot touch:
a river that flows freely yet is never perturbed,
its surface as glassy and silent
as the dead of night.

come visit this holiest of holy places,
when the turbulence becomes too much
for you to bear, let these waters be your refuge,
your stronghold so gloriously insulated
against the terror and disquiet.

here is where all clamor ceases, all winds
are calmed, all nations disarmed;
here you may dive deeper and deeper
into the waters yet never go under;
here the howling of gale force winds
sounds like nothing more than
the most imperceptible whisper
breezing softly through
your soul.

psalm 40: my new song

photo credit: thegospelcoalition.org

photo credit: thegospelcoalition.org


i’m working on a new song,
quite frankly i’ve had it
with the empty prayers
and false offerings, the
sycophantic hymns of praise,
the endless moans of
self-pity, the endless anthems
to victimhood.

my new song came to me
when i least expected it,
it started as a simple song,
just a quiet recounting with
nothing held back and
the more i sang the more
i recognized words still
gestating, patiently waiting
to be born out of my
most authentic self.

i know i’ve sung fancier
songs to you in the past,
but i’m thinking you’ll
like this one best.
it’s not my most eloquent,
but it is my truth and
haven’t you told me
repeatedly that’s all
you’ve ever really
asked of me?

psalm 27: my light and my hope

sedona-sunset


you are my light and my hope
why should i fear?
you are my life and my strength
why do i tremble?

when i contemplate surrender
to my dread of the unknown,
i hold tight to you
and your strength gives me strength.

i only ask one thing of you,
just this one thing:
that i may be welcome in your house
all the days of my life,
to dwell in your innermost place
beneath the softness of your wings.

I seek your shelter
when i am wracked by hardship and disquiet;
from your deepest depths
I will sing hymns to the darkness
with openness and love

do you hear my song?
don’t you hear me when I cry to you?
do not turn away –
i seek you endlessly,
i turn constantly toward your light.

even in my darkest moments
of this i am sure:
I am never alone,
yes, even if my father and mother
abandoned me, I know you are there
to gather me up

guide me in your ways,
lead me down the paths
of wholeness and peace,
remind me that no matter
how far i may stray
there is always a road
to return.

though i don’t always see it
i will trust in your goodness
right here, right now
in the land of the living.

hold on to your hope
and be strong –
the season of our return
is at hand.

psalm 23: filled to overflowing

photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org

photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org

though i am pursued by
my desires,
i lack for nothing.

you shepherd me
past all want;
you take me through lush pastures,
you bathe me in still waters
and replenish my spirit.

you guide me into
wide open vistas and
lead me through valleys
of deepest darkness;
my steps fall sure
and true.

you set my life before me
as a sumptuous banquet;
i feast on your goodness,
and am filled to overflowing.

even when hunger grips
my soul,
i know you are near;
coaxing me back,
drawing me close,
beckoning me
home.

psalm 14: some questions for the faithful

iam

i’m so tired tired of loving you
like a scared and lonely child, so
desperate to behave,
to follow the rules,
to say the right words, to
think proper thoughts.

so i can’t help but ask:
is it better to surrender or to obey?
to fear or to be afraid?
to serve or to live in servitude?

should i try to believe in you
or accept that you are
existence itself?

psalm 13: the grief of one shattered heart

"Storm at Sea," Ivan Aivasovsky (1899)

“Storm at Sea,” Ivan Aivasovsky (1899)

in such a vast universe
can you even feel
the grief of
one shattered heart?
do I dare presume
it might even make
a difference?

please don’t turn away,
don’t fill my life with disregard,
don’t let my grief drift like
a battered wanderer
refused sanctuary at
every turn.

i’m not praying for rescue
for i know this brokenness
is mine to bear.
i pray only for the faith
that somehow you can hear
this sad song
and that in some small way
it matters
to you.

psalm 12: silver strings

silver strings
so much need
in the world and
so much talk,
so many kind
duplicitous words
in response to
so much deprivation
and want.

don’t let me fall
into the speech of
of the pleasant and
cynical,
from the words that
serve only to increase
my own comfort while
keeping the pain of
others at bay.

teach me to speak
your truth:
words that resonate like
a silver string
forged and refined to
utmost purity,
words that pierce the
hard shell of equivocation,
words that reverberate
with raw precision,
words that create
whole worlds
anew.