Psalm 19

Psalm 19
by Carolyn Miller

Loneliness is not bad until you’re made aware of it.
Glory?
What’s glory?
The heavens declare God’s pleasure in what He’s made. Do you feel it when you stare
alone, cold on the balcony? Magnificence pulling your breath out of your chest in cold
smearable colors
.
desires to fly
.
The sky’s signature is one of His notable achievements.
Like an orchestrated symphony for
the deaf – an orchestrated
symphony despite the blind –
the unconstructed shapes and colors run over towards
the ground gravity pulling the silk layers down into the
dark
.
day after day the same trick never done the same way twice like
watercolors bleeding off the page until the moon blacks them
out and the stars force their fingers through the wrapping
.
The skies carry the largest
silent scream translated
through irises of every color in
faces of every shape mouths
mumble prayers into the
visions
.
below the silent rainbow
crimes of unspeakable
nature happen mirroring
the skies ravaging
The eyes see
The ears hear
The rivers run black in the dark Yet, again,
and again – and again the sun rises
streaming in knowledge of all the holes in
the universe its whispering through
leaves and into flowers and into graves
promises of a rising promises of life to
come
.
below above inside out the sun falls it warms the dry bones and the fresh
babies held up in victory held up in joy grass unfurls and springs out from
below the dirt clods, little green banners shivering in the light
.
His train falls
.
people screaming into the foam of the ocean
Their feet imprinted in
the sand laughter spray
.
His train falls into the depths of the liquid
the color becoming more dense as it falls through the
bubbles His feet plant firmly into the freshly furrowed
soil, staining His ankles red as He strides forward
through the fresh smell after the rain The folds of light
drag through the trees and they bend to its force the
leaves curling along the ground
their dust sending up the sweet smell
of
fall.
On the cliff
He pauses a second before
plunging from sight and His train
wraps the land into darkness the
splash of His landing lights
another day
.
Yawning tiredly the fresh spray awakens my soul from fatigue
Again the beams of Your crown shatter the stillness and the birds join into the chorus
I am revived
coffee and wood
and warm soft
blankets
.
i hide my face in the blankets
.
yet the sun finds me
its warm fingers pull me close
.
i throw back the covers and
stretch Until my limbs feel
whole
and i sit up
.
soft warmth
.
i blink in the golden
brightness slivers
cascading through the
glass shivering me to my
knees a darting bird a flash
of color
honey heat
.
Like fire on my flesh its heat sends me into the shadows
.
my feet cold on the tile like fish flipping out on
the shore everything is still here in the kitchen
my presence sending up a disco of dust in the
beams of light
.
My motions are clumsy yet
the sun spills without pause
or error on the floor
all i am my naked flesh goosed in
the cool morning
exposed below Your
eyes My hidden errors
on display my actions x-
rayed into the day
transgression
.
my rhythms slashing through the universe
.
my mouth
formed by
His
.
The whole universe a living
breathing word uttered into the
un. and wriggled into being.
i. a
word.
.
a living breathing
breath. as i interact i
discover.
as i interact with His word i learn.
am i, Your word, bringing delight to Your heart?
Your Word does not go forth and
return void. i, Your word, stand – eyes
closed – in the sunlight.

Carolyn Miller is a yellow glasses, yellow shoes wearing scribbler. She’s been reading since she was four and writing since she was 6. Her passion is hidden in her curiosity and her unconventional dialogue; be that in person, or on paper. She’s been a freelance writer, and an editor for others’ work, since her freshman year of college and been in ministry since she was 13 (be that nursery, youth leader, church librarian, or missions teacher and board member). Carolyn’s heart is that people would look below the surface of their sight and feelings to find and invite God where we least expect or desire Him. She believes writing holds a special ability to dialogue with people even beyond the reach of human connection. And that the Master Storyteller has given us this gift of Word to bring the Kingdom to life within us so that we can walk it out, encouraged in heart and united in love. You can peruse her writing at swallowtalk.wordpress.com, Instagram, and Facebook.