Psalm 2. Hebrews 12:18-19; 1 Kings 19:11-12
What might have been a song spins off into two and three
Conversation becomes chatter, turns to clamor, then to chaos
An aural blur of voices rises, higher, louder, unrelenting
Inside of me, my own scream builds to join them:
Volume’s hailed as power’s equal;
Victory to the trumpet blast
That cows the others into silence,
Short-lived though it will be.
Strings of words, snatches of music
A streaming montage made of memory
Formed of plans and dreams and worries
Pounding like a restless tide.
I cannot think for thinking
On my thought’s runaway train
Every sound good as subliminal –
There and gone before I’ve time to know I’ve heard.
My inner ears are clogged with noise.
I could not hear a whisper if your lips moved right beside me.
I do not ask for shouting or a whirlwind from the mountain;
Only burst the soundproof bubble muffling what you’d have me hear.
Hush demoralizing din.
Still my spirit’s fuss and frenzy.
Lead me to a glade of calm.
We’ll picnic on the fruit of peace
And sit and share and simply be,
As friends can, with or without speaking.
Respite beyond the bedlam…
Stillness amidst commotion…
* * *
Psalm 3. Psalms 19:1-4
The heavens tell of the glory of God
The skies are a gallery, exhibit of your artistry
A masterpiece of silent song, shining for the world to see;
Blessed be the Lord of the sky.
The sun burns warm, and the moon glows cold
The stars twinkle merrily, a gift from far-off galaxies
The sculpted clouds ride on the winds that breathe their airy melody;
Blessed be Creator of it all.
Every shade of blue, every tint of the dawn
Every bold hue of evening as sun and horizon meet
No sketch or painting ever was, could place itself in rivalry;
Blessed be the Artist nonpareil.