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Upon Reading a Psalm
“Lord, mine enemies multiply,
bootlicks grow brazen.
Put thy boot upon their necks.
curse all no-nodding nay-sayers.
Silence.
David:
“The Lord scoffs at them, rebukes them in His anger.”
Silence.
“Answer me when I call You my righteous God.”
A Voice:
Read me a sweeter psalm David,
write Me upon the shivering hide of a newborn cur.
Blow your blues out of your trumpeting mouth.
The hard of hearing call me.: Lord, Lord, Lord!
Their ears are sounding boards for the clacking
of zealous tongues.
You I shall make wise upon an appointed time
and you shall not know
your left hand from your right,
nor will you see friend or foe before you.
Then when you are dumbstruck and as compliant.
as sweet meadow grass
I will raise you up from out of this mirage
of you,
until you are above the image of any me or I.
The one breath of the Father and the son
will be aware of none other. but be a beckoning,
a psalm for all those yet floundering.
within a mind-miasma.
There is a Light,
a light seen only by that Light itself.
Now David, go light a small candle,
place it into a closeted niche of being,
praise the silence of that flame
until 'times dream' snuffs itself entirely out.
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
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