Psalm 150

Some folks fool themselves into believing,
But I know what I know once, at the height
Of hopeless touching, my man and I hold
Our breaths, certain we can stop time or maybe

Eliminate it from our lives, which are shorter
Since we learned to make love for each other
Rather than doing it to each other. As for praise
And worship, I prefer the latter. Only memory

Makes us kneel, silent and still. Hear me?
Thunder scares. Lightning lets us see. Then,
Heads covered, we wait for rain. Dear Lord,
Let me watch for his arrival and hang my head

And shake it like a man who’s lost and lived.
Something keeps trying, but I’m not killed yet.

From The New Testament by Jericho Brown. Copyright © 2014 by Jericho Brown. Originally published by Copper Canyon Press. Used with permission of the author.

This poem was read in the On Being episode “Small Truths and Other Surprises.

Reflections