A Song of Ascents (Part I)

I am for peace and am a man of peace, But when I speak the other men are For violence and blood; they never cease. They lay in wait with weapons of war For the innocent souls of the kings. So, I do not dance when the choir sings, But I lift my eyes up to the hills; As my tribe goes up on the eagles’ wings Above storms to silence, my soul stills With him who never sleeps nor slumbers, Though like sand I see countless numbers Of enemies on my left and right. I am hunted, but the mountain climbers The hands and feet that are set to fight; Yet, they all thrive for the death of me. These same wicked joined hands to agree, Saying, “We plowmen shall plow up his back.” They made their furrows long for all to see, Then stole my brothers and all they did lack; Thus, in anguish of soul I did weep Sowing in tears, but in joy I’ll reap, Doubtless to return bringing my sheaves Grown from precious seed instead of sleep. I’ll restore again what I took not as theives - With God is love and full redemption. Yet, again lifting eyes with no exemption Of heart in hands, I cried til the morrow That He, “for vengence of contempt, shun Us not!” I ate this vain bread of sorrow, For he provides in sleep for his own. Still, I rose early and went forth alone, And again in straits, I sat up late And poured out my heart; my soul did groan Til I saw their eyes, now calmed I wait; Like a weaned child with its mother, So, I rest in God and not another And am not concerned with former matters. I considered my God unlike other Alien gods that nature batters, For idols are the workings of men.