FROM THE BELLY OF THE WHALE

FROM THE BELLY OF THE WHALE

[AN EMERGENCY ROOM PSALM OF JEREMIAH]

To the chief musician: to be overtoned at 528 Hertz.

In the midst of my oppression,

you are there, Godself, O Lord;

in the holocausts of anger

where the Destroyer roams,

in the halls of heart-pain

where the Grasper claws,

in the stranglehold bespeaking

the need for unutterable screams

where the Silencer cuts the tongue from praise ---

There, there still you speak

with a quiet voice nigh lost

between the griefs.

O Lord the Spirit!

Spirit speaks to spirit

and fills the void

wrenched open, drained, made empty;

fills.                                There, Godself, there

you make intercession from Godself to Godself

in the midst of my emptiness,

in the midst of my silences,

in the midst  ---  there.

There, where the pain roams

     with tongue cut off from praise,

           with voice raised against your people ---

there, where destruction grasps the jugular;

there – O Godself, there

            I am known past comprehension

            and answered with love.

                                Slay the tongue-cutters, O Lord,

                                with the hardness of their hearts!

                                Let their steel be sharp against themselves!

                                Let them cut themselves asunder!

                                Let them choose darkness freely

                                and make no effort to return your love;

                                let them perish in their ignorance, O Lord.

                                Let them die without confidence.

Oh heart, lift up!

Godself is near – is here

to liberate.

O Godself, in the midst of my oppression

You are there, O Rock

Copyright © 2004, K’lakokum