Transitions: One Version of Psalm 139

Midnight shook me awake with labor pains
from the olden days, and I was lost.
With a trail as obscure as this one,
who can be sure anything is worth the cost?

If we fail to embrace the steady contractions 
of the hurtling world, if we call for an end 

          to the pain,

               to the pain

                     to the pain

if we give up and don’t push, little will remain.

Some tribes strip you bare and leave you 
writhing in your unbelief, 
leave you to suffer the eternal starting over.
But mine does not. They show up.

If this doesn’t sway you toward love, nothing will.

When greeting and grieving become one, 
the dark night of delivery gives way
to the surprise of placenta-streaked sky
and a trace of rain. 

May our reach 

               always

                    always

                         always 

exceed the grasp of any given day.

And may the wings of the morning hold steady
under the weight of our demands
until we find the hope that lies hidden 
beyond words and the terrors of the night.

Crumbs of manna are all we’ve ever had 
but if we’re willing to share with the birds, 
the scattering will be enough to guide us
to the place where we began. 


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6 thoughts on “Transitions: One Version of Psalm 139”

1. This one takes my breath away. You’re flying on the wings of an angel I’ve never encountered before. But it leads to our deepest longings and we do come back to this place for the first time. You also threw in a reference to a Robert Browning poem (I think)…”our reach must exceed our grasp…or what’s a heaven for.” How lovely! This isn’t just a poem… It’s wandering into wonder!

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   1. I’m not sure it’s an angel :). And yes, I love Browning’s insight and borrow shamelessly for such wisdom. And I’m grateful for you and your kind support. Cheers.

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2. Rita, such important reminders and affirmations in your post. Thank you. G.

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   1. Thanks, Gary. It’s funny…I didn’t experience it as affirming, but sometimes, the poet doesn’t really know what’s going on. Hugs, Rita

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3. If this doesn’t sway you toward love, nothing will.

   consider me swayed.

   I love this post dear Rita…and a pacenta streaked sky….no way you copped that from another writer..a purely original bit of magic conjuring. xox

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4. Hey Nancy, that line about swaying was with you in mind :). I’m glad you are a champion for love. I’m a little skeptical sometimes, xoxoxox

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