#micro-psalm

enfold me

i age and feel it

bones and joints speak

of a brain scattered

pull me together

and if i can’t be fixed

hold them in your mercy

regard these broken parts

we are bears of little brain remembering what filled us then deceive each other with the latest empty calories screaming for attention

i did not, Father, choose

a nomad’s life; however

as soon as i settle

my old body in a fine place

You grab me by the hair

(as it were) and remove me,

uproot my feet before they

i see the leaf-strewn yard,

feel the chill seeping

into the smudged window

and like one neglecting the glass

on the untidy table

remember that i’ve forgotten

my heart is unreceptive soil thornful, mourning itself before completed death

the mind You have given i have riven with distractions and now, torn by floods i feel the loss of communion; You are a body away yet near, even on this bereft island

Creator God

maker, shaper, destroyer, builder:

i thank You because 

among the drab winter trees

above the yellow-brown grass

while the dog roams the yard