Hallowed Air
My bones lie now atop
        and about my
               someday grave,

Knowing soon enough
        they will sleep
               six feet under.

But while they can still
        walk upright and
               carry forth

Through the dark yard
        of no more, set
               my soul aright.

I cry out from the clench
        of evil's wily

I lift mine high in the sky,
        begging for both
               of Yours.

May Your righteousness
        strike the dark
               with thunder

What's not right with me
        in my deepest
               innermost part.

When time plows up
        these grounds and
               scatters all bones,

May mine no more be at
        repose beneath
               this dying earth,

But made anew with
        forever eyes cast
               upon You,

And hands still raised
        but now even higher
               in hallowed air.

Psalm 141

by J Alan R

| Back to Index |