Sunday Psalm

Who can stop the rain’s descent,

each tear formed and sent?

The H and the 2 and the O

banded as a trinity went

*

to play on leaves hung

on the air like a lung

in the spreading tree,

stepping down, rung to rung.

*

They patter like a soft timpani

off to the edge of the canopy

shushing our soul

and healing our atrophy.

*

The showers on their way

with a pelting fray.

Come, remind us then

of morning mercy’s display.

*

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul.” Lamentations 3:22-24

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