placed in our hands there is a book written for our learning for that softly sifting song gifts our heart a yearning to embrace what is impressed a hope in with and under may we hold fast until we've passed to an ever present wonder
Asaph’s Lament (Psalm 90)
we eat bread of the weeping with salt mixed into the dough killing the yeast, our feast strangers eat our fruit reaching over a tumbledown a stack of rocks spread on the ground. We are the food for locust clouds, for raging boars. Flames lick our face and we despair as we burn. As we burn. Will you turn again and shine, he who is enthroned on cherubim's wings? Will you shine?
So we walk to the dark unknown with feet lit by a light suffused from the dirtied ground, salts risen to a baked surface, every drop of water squeezed into the air. But we walk the desert's yearning her rocky paths and trackless ways we walk because beyond the shattered horizon, the listless sun speaks and lights the way to the endless day.
Image Credits: Nathan Anderson, maria paula contreras, Austin Ban, Andrii Leonov