Psalm Sunday – Psalm 3

As I read through and meditated on Psalm 3, I kept being drawn back to verses 4-6,

“I call out to the Lord,
and he answers me from his holy mountain.
I lie down and sleep;
I wake again, because the Lord sustains me.
I will not fear though tens of thousands
assail me on every side.” (NIVUK)

My poetic response, therefore, is based on these 3 verses. I tried to write a poem that has the feel of a children’s poem.

A little child in his bed
Had scary dreams go through his head
That had him wake up in a fright
How horrifying seemed that night!

But Daddy soon was by his side
“My son I heard you when you cried,
So tell me now what visions keep
You from enjoying restful sleep?”

A warm hug made fear’s tremors cease
And soon the child was at peace
He knew his Daddy’s love was sure
And so he fell asleep secure

The child could be you or me
The nightmare: trials that we see
Daddy is our God above
Let’s rest – secure in His love.

Psalm Sunday – Psalm 2

My response to Psalm 2 is a slightly modified villanelle form


Rise up oh nations. Rage and march to war
Rebel against the Most High if you dare!
Wage your battles before you are no more

What is it about goodness you abhor
That you plot violence in your hidden lair…
Why nations, do you rage and march to war?

Your plans are foolish – facts that you ignore
Your force is weaker than you are aware
(So) wage your battles before you are no more

God’s laughter shakes the world down to its core
His wrath is kindled, peoples, so beware
Oh nations, must you rage and march to war?

Like a clay pot that’s thrown to the floor
Will be your army: shattered earthenware
Wage your battles before you are no more

Turn to the one the whole earth should adore
Lest God, to you in anger should declare:
“Rise up, oh nations. Rise and march to war.
Wage your battles. Soon you will be no more.”

Psalm Sunday – Psalm 1

I am going to attempt to write poetic responses to the Palms, hopefully posting one on most Sundays until i have worked through all 150 of them.  Today’s poem is a response to Psalm 1

Prevent me, Lord, becoming like the chaff:
that worthless stuff the wind blows far away
Let me not mock along when scoffers laugh
nor with the wicked, Lord, let me not play

Instead, by streams of water let me grow
that i may bear abundant fruit for You
Teach me your precepts, Lord, that i may know
what’s right, what’s holy, beautiful, and true.