Psalm 42—I say to my soul, sing! Lift aloft. None of this is what it seems.

Rendition of Psalm 42

Lord, where are you?
Where is your river I wanted?
My soul’s throat drinks 
Salt tears and clicks shut.
What is the count of days until
I stand before you in the flesh? 

Everyone laughs at the holes in my needs 
Where my God should be.
But I remember when I walked 
With the throng to your house.
We kept faith, kept festival.
We made our songs sails 
And your invisible wind 
Filled them for all to see.
I say to my soul, sing! Lift aloft.
None of this is what it seems.

But the words don’t work.
At night, there is the silence
And the long longing. My God,
My abysses all meet and merge. 
I wanted water, but you were flood.
Your breakers swept stormwise 
And I was overthrown.

But even the deep is yours.
Your love still rushes out
On the lines you gave it. 
I know the song is real
Because I can even hear it here.
In the dark, there is not much 
Space dividing faith and need, 
So I slip my prayers in the cracks 
Between the times you never showed up,
And the times you lifted me,
And set me home with you 
Where the flood never touched.

Why should I mourn 
If my adversaries are unconvinced
By a God who would let this happen?
Many things need more than time. 

So, sing. Stand again.
Brace yourself. Hope in God. 
Pant and praise and wait.

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Psalms: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 38, 39, 40, 41, 43, 47, 54, 61, 63, 66, 70.

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Photo by Jan Kopřiva on Unsplash