Psalm 8—I am thistledown the wind has taken, yet the lives of stars are nothing to me.

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.

Psalm 8—I am thistledown the wind has taken, yet the lives of stars are nothing to me.

Psalm 8—I am thistledown the wind has taken, yet the lives of stars are nothing to me.   Lord, even the air echoes your name. The river thrums with it. The bright mountains tower it out. The holy birds sing it dawnward. Yet, the earth and the whole heavens Can’t contain the barest sum of you.   When I look at the works of your hands, I see how everything is poised At the start of its becoming. Fat mat tongues push greenly  From the snow soil like a rising from the dead. Overhead, wild and unseen singers in the trees Chorus and break cover,  As if every leaf became a bird at once. The wind blows from another world And the clouds go cartwheeling by.   What am I that you are mindful of me? You have made me haunted and hallowed, Branded, bent, and fallow; Lattice of heartstring and sinew, A long and weary marionette; Hawk above, snake below, Mouse afield and running.   Still, you gave me the wild world, And crowned me with your own crown. I am thistledown the wind has taken, Yet the lives of stars are nothing to me.   O God, how bright and vast is your name in all the earth. See omnystudio.com/listener [https://omnystudio.com/listener] for privacy information.

Psalm 38—I chewed black thoughts like cracked bones and made a meal of my sin’s marrow.

Psalm 38   God, in your anger, don’t set me aside. I suffered the length of your chastening. Your arrows have fallen all around me. Your hand pressed me into the ground. You heaved my heart whole over.   I am all raw wounds. My heart is scoured bright as brass— Abraded, burnished, blazing hot Under the blast of your wrath. My peace is choked Because I chewed black thoughts Like cracked bones and made  A meal of my sin’s marrow. My wrongs have doubled back on me And I can’t bear them.   My rot flesh hangs in strips. The fester stinks. All day, I shuffle through drifts of sorrow. My feet are bleeding in my shoes As I walk the long lanes of grief. My prayers fall in soft sift That drops to muddy slosh behind me. A fire has made a home in my flesh. I keep patting my chest to put it out, But the fever won’t quit. My bones are brittle as coral.  My eyes shine like opals, And I hold my limbs with care As if they might snap off.  I’m bound and bowed and brought low.  My body bends to the ground As if I am already grinning down Into my grave.   None of this is secret. It happens under the open face of heaven. You see me, Lord. You hear the long lament  Singing out of me all day  And through the black hours of night. Those friends I loved stand away. Even my brothers press their hands to their mouths And shake their heads. But those who want to hurt me draw near. Their thoughts   chasms, But their words are all bright as knives  That leave fresh red ribbons In my mind when I think of them.   I would fill my mouth with arguments And my ears with my own defense, But instead, I am dumb and stuttering and stunned. Lord, you know how I would trade  My heart for any hope I could lay hands on If it promised me a way out. So set your silence on me.  Staunch me, stop me, Hold me hard at bay. Give me the stillness that isn’t peace, But has the seeds of peace in it.    You are the last word I’m waiting for. If you are not my defense, I have no defense. I know your answers start Before I know to ask. I know they take a long time  And aren’t made of words, but of moments  Stacked one on another.   I am ready to fall. My pain is set plainly before me. I can hardly hide it, Nor keep it a secret, Nor find the smallest, furtive, Fugitive minute to forget it. I didn’t know this is what I bargained for When I gathered my folly To my chest in great-armed heaps. Visit me even here, Lord. I want to begin again. Show me what is good Even if it makes this all the worse.   Curb the joy of those Who rejoice when I fall. I will tell all my wrongs.  I will hold nothing back. I will foreswear all the misbegotten loves That have made a home in my heart.   Do not cast me off, but stay with me. Even now, rush to help me. Level out a rollicking, bracing, lavisher love.  My chevalier in stride, have your way! Cast back black sorrow. Know no bounds. Breach and breast  High over every hindrance. Show me what it feels like  To be safe and saved. See omnystudio.com/listener [https://omnystudio.com/listener] for privacy information.