A PSALTERY OF ALL THINGS

Listen to the praises in the Book of Life
when we turn our eyes to every page.

Follow the calendar of wildflowers,
the wingspread of eagle hymnals,
the cornucopia of crops resurrected,
or lamentations in the belly of a whale.

Lift up your voice each hour and sing.

In the solemn liturgy of the clouds,
a celestial choreography around us
that genuflects in time with heavy rain.
And treetops scratch that canopy.

Sing the leaf and bough, trunk and root.

The jiggling jellyfish that float and frolic.
A hoarse cacophony of congregating crows.
A wreath of wrens and fluttering of finches
puffing shadows full of symphonies.

All that has life and breath sing praise.

Baby's Breath and wands of Queen Anne's lace,
the tilting cups of multicolored tulip heads,
the tapestry of roses like embroidered banners,
the phlox that moves like flocks in fields of green.

Sound a triumphant blast from the Easter lilies.

Hear the angel of the afterlife who tells the spoiler
end of this unending story, and lets our fingers
feel the brine of tears upon the marble cheek
we watch in wonder on a weeping statue.

Let our hearts ground down in grief turn joyful.

And when the final kiss of flames extinguishes
every city, help me wait for ashes on my forehead
and turn this hot inferno into plumes of holy smoke.
As we hear a tantrum made by thunder ending.

Savior, our salvation, come to save us, Pie Jesu.

And let us rest upon the wide and wondrous field of
fallen stars until the animated morning's magnificence
sends us joy to savour all the grace surrounding us,
while wisdom sets our footsteps on the path of peace.

Let me never be confounded, but endlessly astounded.

Amen.

photo by cubicroot XYZ on Unsplash