Psalm 39—Memory the Coinage of Unquiet Thought
"Riddle years that half went mad."
A Note from Andy
This poem is the final entry in the seven-poem series of poems written in dialogue with George Herbert’s Prayer (1). The series is organized as a chiasm (more on this in the next post) that is structured like this:
Faith
| Hope
| | Love
| | | Grace
| | Loss
| Time
Memory
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If you are new to the Darkling Psalter, it is a project to create renditions of the Psalms (artistic rewordings based in the original Hebrew) and original poems to pair with each one. Welcome aboard.
]You can catch up with previous psalms here: 1, 2, 6, 8, 13, 14, 16, 19, 22, 29, 31, 32, 34, 38, 40, 42, 46, 51, 53, 65, 73, 74, 84, 86, 88, 90, 107, 121, 123, 130, 131, 137, 142, 147, and the Guided Tour.
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Rendition of Psalm 39
I promised myself: I will watch all my ways And my words will not go wrong. I will muzzle my mouth When the wicked face me. So I was mute. I held my silence. But I kept peace for nothing. Pain doubled within me. My heart grew coal-hot. I barely whispered but it was fire Not words my tongue made. O Lord, how does this end? What is the span? What is the reach? What bounds have you put on my fleeting days? You gave me time no wider than a handsbreadth. What is the line of my life Beside the light's long walk between stars? Where I go, a long shadow follows, A breath - and the shadow passes. Surely it is for nothing, for wind, for vanity That I have spent so much time in toil Heaping up what I can barely carry, What, at the end, I will set down in a pile And leave behind. You are the one I'm waiting for, Lord. My hope is in you. Deliver me from all of this. I would rather suffer under your hard hand Than face the scorn of fools. I lay my hand across my mouth. When you discipline a man You eat like a moth what his days have made, You fall on his dear things like locusts. You make salt pillars of his loves looking back. Turn aside from this plague. We are only breath. Hear my prayer, Lord. I raise this cry to you with tears. I have wandered with you through These years, as have all my fathers. Now look away that I can smile again Before I depart.
Poem for Psalm 39—Memory the Coinage of Unquiet Thought
Memory the coinage of unquiet thought, rogue wave, Riddle years that half went mad, Thistledown and sinew, slow lathe, Myrtle and juniper clapping their hands, God at a walk, fire by night, Old chances, sorrow drawn, The starlong stride of distant light, Long regrets, six trumpets gone, Beams of rosegold all round wider, Fear bright firekiss, loves you lack, Christ behind us, hunting back, Christ among us, prowling wilder, Then the wild whisper of a rumor ran, But before abraham was, I am.
"Where I go, a long shadow follows"
"Thistledown and sinew, slow lathe"
Some favourite lines. Good contrast between thistledown and sinew, and "slow lathe" gives me just the feeling of a lathe slowly lathing, with that spondee. Really like that poem—dense and rich imagery.
I have had A Horse and His Boy on my mind lately, so of course the line "Christ among us, prowling wilder" fits right in.