Psalm 28—You Are There When the Grace Gathers Around the Table at Dinner, in the Hallowed Halls of the Real World.

 

I forget how to begin, Lord.

Wait for me. It’ll take a minute

To find my way from here

To somewhere else.

 

I’ve been digging ditches all summer, 

Sweating through my graveclothes.

I can feel the beat, beat,

Beat of things going faster—my pulse, 

My pitted prayers, the waltzing clock.

I’ve been patting my pockets since June,

And I keep coming up short.

I thought I was only busy,

But I watched these holes getting deeper, 

And realized: one is as good as another.

 

All day a question runs in my head:

Will you meet me more than halfway,

Or will you drag me off with the wicked? 

I can find their every shortfall in myself. 

I have taken my sin in sips,

While I waited for time to eat away at my resolve.

I have settled for less

And insisted it was worth it.

I have pressed my hands to the wall

In the space between two trains

And hoped my fleeting pleas would pass for prayer.

 

You hold yourself silent,

But I know you are there.

You show yourself and dance away,

You made your rumor run 

Under the wind, wild as wolves, 

Catching, coy, quicksilver—

Purple in fingers picking blackberries,

Gasping in the azaleas,

Cascading in summer hollyhocks 

Grown head-high and higher. You are there 

In the throaty chuckle of ravens brooding 

Like a gang of black toads in the oak trees.

You are there when the grace gathers

Around the table at dinner,

In the hallowed halls of the real world,

Ready to be passed again from hand to hand

In bits of bread and cups of wine.

 

Lord, help me. Hear me.

Gird yourself and guard me.

Show up, my God, you plodder! 

I cannot give much more than this.

If you are not my help,

I have none. Shepherd, 

Carry me.

Psalm 28&mdash;You Are There When the Grace Gathers Around the Table at Dinner, in the Hallowed Halls of the Real World.
&nbsp;
I forget how to begin, Lord.
Wait for me. It&rsquo;ll take a minute
To find my way from here
To somewhere else.
&nbsp;
I&rsquo;ve been digging ditches all summer,&nbsp;
Sweating through my graveclothes.
I can feel the beat, beat,
Beat of things going faster&mdash;my pulse,&nbsp;
My pitted prayers, the waltzing clock.
I&rsquo;ve been patting my pockets since June,
And I keep coming up short.
I thought I was only busy,
But I watched these holes getting deeper,&nbsp;
And realized: one is as good as another.
&nbsp;
All day a question runs in my head:
Will you meet me more than halfway,
Or will you drag me off with the wicked?&nbsp;
I can find their every shortfall in myself.&nbsp;
I have taken my sin in sips,
While I waited for time to eat away at my resolve.
I have settled for less
And insisted it was worth it.
I have pressed my hands to the wall
In the space between two trains
And hoped my fleeting pleas would pass for prayer.
&nbsp;
You hold yourself silent,
But I know you are there.
You show yourself and dance away,
You made your rumor run&nbsp;
Under the wind, wild as wolves,&nbsp;
Catching, coy, quicksilver&mdash;
Purple in fingers picking blackberries,
Gasping in the azaleas,
Cascading in summer hollyhocks&nbsp;
Grown head-high and higher. You are there&nbsp;
In the throaty chuckle of ravens brooding&nbsp;
Like a gang of black toads in the oak trees.
You are there when the grace gathers
Around the table at dinner,
In the hallowed halls of the real world,
Ready to be passed again from hand to hand
In bits of bread and cups of wine.
&nbsp;
Lord, help me. Hear me.
Gird yourself and guard me.
Show up, my God, you plodder!&nbsp;
I cannot give much more than this.
If you are not my help,
I have none. Shepherd,&nbsp;
Carry me.

Listen to creative renditions of the Psalms.

Listen to creative renditions of the Psalms.

The Darkling Psalter

The Psalms were written to be sung, prayed, and heard. The Darkling Psalter presents original poetic reimaginings of the biblical Psalms by Andy Patton. These are not translations or paraphrases, but companion poems that seek to capture the movement, imagery, emotion, and theology of each psalm in fresh poetic language.

Each episode invites listeners to hear one of Scripture's oldest songs through a contemporary poetic imagination, offering a fresh way into lament, praise, confession, longing, and hope.

The Psalms were written to be sung, prayed, and heard. The Darkling Psalter presents original poetic reimaginings of the biblical Psalms by Andy Patton. These are not translations or paraphrases, but companion poems that seek to capture the movement, imagery, emotion, and theology of each psalm in fresh poetic language.
Each episode invites listeners to hear one of Scripture's oldest songs through a contemporary poetic imagination, offering a fresh way into lament, praise, confession, longing, and hope.

Psalm 28—You are there when the grace gathers around the table at dinner, in the hallowed halls of the real world.

https://api.omny.fm/orgs/d699cc26-51ff-4875-9bdb-aa4e006494dd/clips/a6b40785-53df-436f-878d-b48b010e3952/transcript