Friday, January 11, 2019

Soul, desolate

After Psalm 42

My soul is desolate,
crying out in pain,
an agony of night,
of mourning and 
oppression, bones
aching in suffering
and taunts of ridicule
and derision, 
condescending to warp
my soul, demanding 
to know where I am,
and why, and why not

I turn to the sun,
a light shining,
the light shining
in the dark of night

and I sing

Photograph by Eduardo Guiterrez viaUnsplash. Used with permission.

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