psalm 12
I have been quiet, compliant
not wishing to disturb
as if You did not already know
my heart songs
the deep, low wail of distress
questions build upon questions
ever seeking the answer
that would obliterate the need
for more discussion, yet
I hear, more than enough
the expected reply “wait”
the ache rushes in, the sad sinking
“how long then?” my lament
is sharp, cold, bitter
“how long?” David also queried
and waited, aching, lamenting
yet choosing to turn, I will also turn
my back to the wall
and the wind, and the wail
and I will worship, yes worship
until…
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