Psalm 41—I followed my own road home and found fear waiting

Psalm 41—I followed my own road home and found fear waiting

You laid long lines in the world,  And trod out paths for our feet to follow. You said, “This is the good way—walk in it.”   The one who gives away what she gained, Will find a goodness that time won’t wear down, Will find grace a sunbeam in the blank dark. The one whose repentance  Sears stripes in her failures, Will find lies don’t last as long as they should. The one who makes a bed of her own grave,  Will wake in a new world,  Blinking at the light.   But that is not the way I went. I followed my own road home and  Found fear waiting. I fell sick And begged for healing that never came. Anxieties buzzed like flies. I waved them away, And they returned in the wake of my hand. I was never good at hiding what I suffered. I knew something was wrong, But found the wrong names for it. My head ached. I barely ate. I lost weight. Friends I thought I had took my secrets And set them where all could see. They laid wagers on whether this was the end, Or if I could last a little longer.   Lord, do you still delight in me Though I found a life I never thought I’d lead? Then wrap the slender thread Of my prayer around your finger And do not let my troubles win. Take me in. Hold me fast.  Give me back the dogged days I lost at last.  See omnystudio.com/listener [https://omnystudio.com/listener] for privacy information.

Psalm 36—The clouds are not higher than the measure of God's love, nor the stars, nor the farthest flung distant folly of hope.

The wicked man’s mind runs glad With evil thoughts and he can’t sleep. His heart tramps from wrong to wrong In a dim parade, full of all the wrong fears. He wonders why he would let this glamour go Once he got it started. He spins traps And hangs them in corners. Words tumble Out of his mouth like black spiders. He tells himself he’ll stand Infinity on edge and flick it so it spins.   But there is another wisdom and no one Has found the end of it. God’s love. You can’t shake it. It is as solid As a mountain and doesn’t rattle. The clouds are not higher Than the measure of God's love, Nor the stars, nor the farthest Flung distant folly of hope.   We can hide in it, feast on it, Drink it in, dare gale darlings Fledged under bright wings. It is free for the taking every morning As much as hand can hold or heart gather. It is a light strung between stars in long lines, Wide and white against the blank dark.   God, keep me in the slow lathe of your love. Make my soul’s bones hone and spin. Lift me up but lay low And unlace every evil plan.   See omnystudio.com/listener [https://omnystudio.com/listener] for privacy information.

Psalm 47—Ring the words on your hollow heart’s bell.

Psalm 47—Ring the words on your hollow heart’s bell. Ring the words On your hollow heart’s bell.  Fling and strike the song  To every corner: God is king. The Lord layers his rule Down on the lacerated land In hoards, in heaves, in mountains,  in downward drawing, heaven-heighted droves. Everyone who listens lays their petty kingdom At his feet in heaps, kneels and joins the knell, Bright blows the bell, topples  Their stricken selves and tips  Their spiraling heights whole over. God himself is lifted and struck, And the whole earth resounds. His unrolling trumpet blast at last Sounds heaven down to ground. Sing it back, take it up Until everyone is wakened,  Welcomed, greatened, circled  Around his throne and shouting Up to the vast, keening heights. Then the dance begins. See omnystudio.com/listener [https://omnystudio.com/listener] for privacy information.

Psalm 29—Everything in the wide home of the world flings Godward, crying, “Glory!”

Psalm 29—Everything in the wide home of the world flings Godward, crying, “Glory!” God’s high heaven is choired  With singers ringing back Ranks of bright light in song. Praise him!   His voice troubles over the sea, And the waters writhe and surge. The voice of God towers and crests And rises up and up and up.   His voice topples tall empires like timber,  And rattles proud cedars down. The rock beneath my feet, The ground I thought was steady, Skipped and bucked like a calf  When his clarion call sounded.   The voice of the Lord gouges flames of fire. It shakes the weary wastes like a sheet. The wind of his words Strips the trees bare and everything In the wide home of the world Flings Godward, crying, “Glory!”   Though the sea and the world rage, God is enthroned above the flood. Lord, strengthen your people. Lord, come be king and bring us peace! See omnystudio.com/listener [https://omnystudio.com/listener] for privacy information.

Psalm 2—Don’t ask for answers; ask for waiting. You barely know the meaning of things.

For more renditions of the Psalms, visit darklingsalter.substack.com.  Text of the rendition: Psalm 2—Don’t ask for answers; ask for waiting. You barely know the meaning of things. Why do the lost nations rage and rally  Devices against the living God? The kings of the earth take their stand, saying,   “Enough! Break these bindings. God is only a consuming fire. He will turn his hand against us. So we became stoneburners. So we split love seven ways, Were cast in gold, were heaven itself. We plotted and raged. We spoke in tongues. We saw secret things. It cost us our lives, but God, we were beautiful.   How were we supposed to love That thunderous light?  The auguries were all indifferent, And time tumbles pips up. If you go back enough It is all just dice.”   The Lord of all the earth Laughed in his wild water heart and said,   “For all your talk, you still missed Every chance to change you got. You were unbreakable, untouchable. You clad yourself and seethed. Anymore, you barely need a reason To give yourself to things  You can’t come back from. You could never pick up the hot coals  Inside yourself and kiss them. Even still, you could have lived If you had learned to take inside yourself The reprisals of your friends  When they braved your dagger-bladed smile. I wanted to gather you together And walk you through the lanes of longsuffering, But you wouldn’t. So now you have headaches And suffer through all you wanted. So now you are wires and exposed bone And fever and heartstring. So now the day wrings mute confessions out of you And you stay in bed so no one will hear them.   Then, the Lord said to me,    “Today, you are my son And I am your father forever. The throne of God is God’s alone But it was always shared. I made the earth to be given— Ask, and it is yours, But you must also take these enemies of mine. Break them like pottery; Bind them back like pieces Of your own broken body.   So don’t ask for answers;  Ask for waiting. You barely know the meaning of things. God’s wrath burns at a touch. The shelter of his kindness Is the only shelter left. If you are lucky  and wise and warned, What you get is quiet. What you get is your life. See omnystudio.com/listener [https://omnystudio.com/listener] for privacy information.