Psalm #1

Yesterday, my better-than-average preacher spoke a good word almost off-the-cuff. "Seek God and he will be found," he said. These words, along with the breaking of a beautiful morning, gave rise to both an ache I hadn't yet recognized and to this poem.

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Psalm #1

If there came an eternal morning on the wings of the robins collecting daily manna,

Seek God and he will be found;

one that woke soft silver, and rose new orange only to return to soft silver and to rise again new orange, and so on and so forth,

seek God and he will be found;

if there were only the quiet before the house waking--the mother, the children, and the coercive routine--

seek God and he will be found;

then prayer would linger like morning mist and praise like the Northern Cardinal calling.

seek God and he will be found.

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