Psalm in the Shadow | Spoken Word

 

My hidden Shepherd, I've stumbled unsure

amidst rumbling storms and shadow; obscured

pathways, a mist shrouds my searching gaze.

I have earnestly begged to see your face,

Tearfully prayed through troubled nights and days,

Standing under your heavy hand,

Not understanding your painful plan.

I'm like a lamb

to the slaughter.

Have you forgotten

that I am your daughter?

Have you run out of grace?

Left me alone in this place?

And I'm just tryin' to run this race

well, but you disappeared and I fell

into a pit, a dark prison cell.

Please leave the ninety-nine

and get me out of this hell!

I thought, for a while, we had a great relationship,

But it seems the One who held me

has released me from his grip.

Have you abandoned me

to the world's cracking whip?

According to their standards, I'm never enough,

But still I aim for perfection, and try to be tough.

And Lord, I know you use a different measure,

Yet inside your rule I still feel such pressure.

But where else would I go?

God, you are my Treasure.

Jesus, my Jesus, I remember what you spoke:

"Come to me, you who are weary,

Come to me and share my yoke."

But I have no clue how to drop my burden,

No idea how to pick up your light one.

I'm being crushed by the weight and exertion.

All I want is to see you, the bright Son!

I don't know how my soul is supposed to let go

of the load I've carried my whole life, and so

I'll just do the one part I can say that I know:

I will come to you, Jesus, 'cause you are my Home.

Here in the shadow, I speak out my choice:

That although I can't see you, I'll follow your voice.

Forest Song

 

Wildwood, what palace of peace!

Trees towering tall;

Sapiens seems so small

In cottonwood cathedrals

And stately sequoia steeples.

Pines pointing to the Higher Power,

Arboreal ardor amplified;

Hear the festal forests' chorus,

Witness alders' adulations

And junipers' jubilations.

Praise the Prince of palms and ponderosas!

Regal redwoods in refrain,

Rejoice in the Ruler of dappled domains.

Sunlight shining glory gold

Through backlit leaves light green -

A shimmering story told

With winds' whispers fresh and free,

Lungs of the earth,

Alive with mirth.

Listen as they lift high the Lord of lords!

Canticle to the Creator of cassia canopies

and hickory halls -

In chapels of chestnut a chant

swells and falls,

Then streams from new shoots

And rises from ancient roots,

Flying toward heaven's Heart,

Fiery phoenix of the flame tree.

Lightning, rain, and thunder -

Watch the willows bow in wonder

And worship the Maker,

Master of every woodland acre.

All for him, the Forest Song.