Watching for the Morning: an autumn lament

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Psalm 130, selected verses

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.
Lord, hear my voice!

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord
more than those who watch for the morning,
more than those who watch for the morning.

Watching for the morning

in the drab of weakened

hours stretching endless

through my days;

watching for the morning

in the muck and grime

of ugly accusations, gutter

politics, that lurch us

towards an un-triumphant day

of choice and reckoning;

watching for the morning

in the rubble of Aleppo,

bombs raining grief

upon a people drenched

in sorrows of a past

and future lost;

watching for the morning

in the wake of hurricanes

that rip apart foundations,

obliterate whole families, and scar the

earth with puddles of despair;

watching, watching, watching,

hands reaching out to hold

each other up, to touch the

palms nail-spikѐd on that

crossbeam of so long ago,

those fingers reaching out

to grasp our tattered hands

and draw us to a near, if distant,

morning, light perpetual.

2 thoughts on “Watching for the Morning: an autumn lament

  1. This is the best thing I have read about this lamentable election season. You have found the words and images I have been searching for to express my dismay and loss over the rapid erosion of our political/moral/spiritual life.

    You make me think of Lear’s words –“The weight of this sad time we must obey,
    Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.”

    Thanks for the pictures and images of hope that bring light to a dismal time.

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