Break (Psalm 29)
Trapped in the earth,
Captive of the world.
Gravity is too strong,
Too grave.
I demand to know:
Am I an ant that I should bear
Ten times my own weight
For even ten hours more of waiting?
Am I a mere ant?
But somehow I find myself here often‒
Buried.
Encapsulated.
Aching to straighten my limbs.
Breathing back the same air.
For a while
I had an extra inch to spare,
But now I’m close to frozen.
Like dreams
In which I can’t scream,
It takes all of me and more
To make a squeak
That anyone at all might hear
And recognize its meaning
And come to let me out.
And with that whisper of a breath
I can ascribe
Just one stroke of one letter
Toward the telling of his glory,
A scratch on the concrete that encases me,
One fingernail tip tap toward my freedom,
Toward the glory due his name.
Unlocks the kingdom,
And the king himself is coming‒
He was already on the move‒
A thunderhead looming,
Advancing over the waters,
Accelerating in my direction.
Mine!
But at long last
I’m straining toward the thunder in the distance.
I crave the impossible crunch of the cedars breaking.
I glory in the splintering twisting of the oaks
And the blast of the storm that shreds their leaves.
There is such relief in the impact
Because I am saved.
I am safe.
I am free!
I can breathe.
Almost unbidden,
Bursts forth the purest cry:
Glory!
An answer to his thunder:
Glory!
He spent his strength on me!
And I am resting,
Bathed in spirit wind
Atop the tenderest shoots of green
Under a clear vast sky,
In perfect peace.
