Psalm Of My Savior

I will make my abode among the clouds
and my golden feet will tread softly.
I will stride through azure fields with birds at my shoulder
and the quiet earth at my feet.

I will walk among laborers
Who sustain with toil and sweat.
I will take their callused hands in friendship,
the stevedore, the farmer.

I will sit down with kings and rise up with the common.
I will rest with the widow, the orphan,
and their grief will lie heavy on me.

I will sleep with the weary,
the refugee from life who has chosen to slip from it into shadow,
into darkness and I will light one small candle.

My way shall be my own among the living and the dead.
Birds shall nest in my beard and call me friend.

My family will be hid among the rocks
And bright water be my cousin.
Wind shall take my heart singing
And I will comfort small things, small creatures.

I shall read the book of stars
And stand naming them till my eyes join the night.
The sun will be my pillow,
Moon my cloak and garment.

The way shall be made plain to me
And no one else see it
And all time shall pour out upon my head
And grace shall fill my foot prints.
Sand shall know my going and my coming
And waves take them both
And sea wrack be my sandals
And ship wrecks be my stead.

I will count pebbles in a quarry
And give voice to things unseen.
Song will burst from stone
And all meaning be mine own.




Charles Dietzel, 2005