To sing a song

After Psalm 6

I sing a song,

a story, a biography

of anguish and sorrow,

a song that reaches

outward and upward

to the ears that hear,

the ears that listen,

the heart that heeds

and responds, overwhelming,

as arms embrace me,

as heart that keeps time

surrounds me,

making my song

a note in its own.

Photograph by Laith Abuabdu via Unsplash. Used with permission.

A cry, heard

After Psalm 6

A cry from the heart,

a cry is heard,

the heart’s tears

have flowed into ears,

a cry is heard,

a cry for mercy

unmerited, unjustified,

undeserved, yet

the cry is heard and

accepted.

Enemies retreat,

sorrows retreat,

anguish retreats

in the balm

of acceptance.

Photograph by Vinicius Amano via Unsplash. Used with permission.

The groaning

After Psalm 6

My bed bobs in the sea,

a sea of tears, my own,

flooding me, threatening

to drown me as I sink

in my groaning, as I drench

myself in tears, my own,

the tears of knowledge, my own, 

the tears of brokenness, my own,

the tears of recognition, my own,

the tears of sorrow, my own,

as foes surround me,

foes including my own heart,

the tears flowing from sorrow,

the sorrow that brings weakness,

the weakness flowing from my eyes.

In my weakness am I found.

Photograph by Kat Love via Unsplash. Used with permission.

A thin black line

After Psalm 6

A thin black line

stretches before me,

a line unending

into the horizon,

into the void, no refuge,

no respite, no relief

even if only temporary,

this void I languish in,

the void I anguish in.

My voice begs forgiveness,

my voice pleads rescue,

my heart screams to avoid

the anger, the justice,

the discipline, all justified.

Photograph by David Pl via Unsplash. Used with permission.