Psalm 36
I know the sinful utterance of the wicked–
know it like the back of my hand,
know the sound of it,
the taste of it as it passes my lips.
I have heard myself quickening the dead letter of law
while God whispers in my ear,
“Let it die!”
I protest my innocence by acknowledging my guilt
yet wallow in the protestation.
I cannot trust my own words.
Authenticity,
truth
speaks only in silence
But this spring spewing lies
has been my mother tongue
for ages
upon ages.
Bare beneath the heavens
on some island or plain
I sense your Love,
immense and free
righteous.
It saves all creatures,
draws all to an end.
Like some great wing
or flourished skirt,
You cover us with feathered,
pleated strength.
A table is set.
There is drink and food.
A river flows
and a new fount gurgles.
It is as if we had never drunk before,
never seen the light.
If I have any place of pure desire
let it be met by your Love.
Don’t let it be trampled by my arrogance
or chased by my confusion.
Here I lay aside my dead body
and deader soul
to be sustained by You.
–Alex Joyner
Heartlands 