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.