On Monday's I've taken to writing psalms. I penned this one recently in the nine o'clock hour of the Sunday-go-to-meeting, which I suppose is as good of a place as any to be writing prayers. Please don't tell my preacher. For those of you who are unfamiliar with more a liturgical church setting (i.e., mass), the italicized words come from the prayer preceding the Eucharistic cannon, which is sometimes known as the "preface." This portion of the mass is my second favorite, as it contemplates our hearts being raised up to the throne of God. Of course, there are minor variations among the more liturgical protestant denominations, but the essence remains the same across the board, and is captured below. Yesterday, as I moved through the protestant machinations of the Sunday-go-to-meeting, I found myself missing the preface, and so, I started repeating it to myself. It's funny how childhood things creep up on you from time to time.
The Preface (Psalm #6)
The Lord be with you.
By prayer and meditation, we are divided; tender sympathies from alter ego, suit color from skin, we are peeled back like the midnight blue from dawn’s dew grass, where new creation sighs the gentle, easy coming of morning.
And with your spirit.
You have created in us endless opportunities hidden among traffic jams and horns honking their fitful good-mornings, their restless official tinkerings. You have woven us into the fabric of the serpent quilt— oh, how we might together become our own gods!— but left a thread-tail, for pulling, and pulling, and pulling us free.
Lift up your hearts— peel us back!
We lift them up to the Lord— we, the endless opportunities!
Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God— pull us, pull us, pull us free!
It is right and just— to give you thanks and praise!