Let me rest this body
that has known pain,
yet still it slips into numbness.
Let me rise,
Your right hand to guide me
and place healing on my lips,
tasting of sweetness and sky.
Oh, let me rise!
I want to soothe this caged-wing soul,
loose feathered and desperate,
let go the moments that slip through,
withering and dull,
so that I can no longer feel
the glory of You,
though its shadow
rests upon me like a kiss.
I want to fly with the larks
who rise in exaltation.
They know Your secret name
and sing it, each one, an ascension
into the vastness of sky and wind,
a psalm,
a song,
a glory.
Oh! Let me rise,
so that my heart rejoices,
so that my being exults,
my body rests, secure
But let me rise and be whole.
Based upon Psalm 16
I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. I n the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy. If nothing else, I've learned to make a mean cup of coffee.
3 comments:
So beautiful, Stacey. XO
So beautiful. Thank you for helping us rise.
Shoshana Stombaugh
Stacey a beautiful poem. To quote from verse 11 of psalm 16, you Stacey help to "make known to me the path of light." Not an easy path so all help, especially in the form of this beautiful interpretation, appreciated.
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