Читать книгу Psalms for Skeptics - Kent Gramm - Страница 11

I will sing

My sonnet is a song of prayer—lament

and dismay at having to do without;

or wish-like vision “stricken-through with doubt;”

sometimes a moody new Jerusalem

of pagan sacrifice and praise, raw awe

and horror discordant, blaring like brass

and dental as gold in an out-held hand,

metered to pieces, obedient to law.

And sometimes the listener writes the lines,

composes the notes—and then I listen

more than complain. It isn’t praise I hear;

it is my own heartbeat listening blind,

shuddering at the universal scare

and clawing the scales for intervals of air.