Psalm 17. Psalms 50:8-14
You don’t really need another song.
You’ve had more throughout the ages
Than any but you could count –
From the sorrowfully substandard,
To the best Man has to offer,
To the “holy, holy, holy” from your hosts of heavenly seraphs.
And surely any music you made –
A Holy Trinity trio,
Or a symphony from nothing –
Would reduce all man- and angel-kind to weeping,
Could their lesser ears discern it.
What have I but words already written,
Melodies already strung,
Harmonies used over and over
Since the dawn of chords?
“Sing him a new song” indeed.
New to me, the song may be,
Slowly discovered, line by line,
A lyrical adventure…
Its surprise on me only.
For your knowledge transcends silly things like time.
You knew the poetry I’d craft
While I’d yet to be crafted in the womb.
It’s all “been there, read that” for you;
Yours truly, last to know, as always.
What to get the God who has it all?
You said, “I’ll take a ‘thank you’.”
Thank you, then, with all my heart.
I’ll gift you with my gratitude.
I’ll wrap your praises up in verse,
And give it all my human best;
Present it with an eager smile
And eyes that shine with hoping that you’ll like it.
And you’ll take it with gentle hands,
Exclaiming over the intent,
And add my scrap to the display on your divine refrigerator,
Loving gift for giver’s sake,
As those with children do.
Oh, you.
“Oh, you.”
And it was then she re-knew she was precious.
Ever On Word 