© Hilary F. Marckx, all rights reserved
Writing a poem about a poem,
especially a poem about a psalm,
seems almost like hubris.
it seems that a poem about praise
will be most appropriate.
I believe in praise as an all purpose
antidote for my ills—
especially my spiritual and emotional ills.
not because it is easy,
it is hard and I rarely want to do it,
but I praise because doing so heals and changes me.
I do not praise God for the problem,
or challenge, or whatever
strange and inventive name people use
when they don’t want to face
the real issues of trouble,
but I praise God that God is with me,
through the bad of whatever is going on.
I find that reminding myself that I am not alone,
even in the midst of the most desolate
times of my alone-ness, gives me hope and strength
and strips the problem of its power over me.
I praise God for me…
I praise God for you…
I praise God for God…
I praise God for everything
I can possible think of…
AND I know that whatever happens—
failure or triumph, loss or gain,
or just a long continuation of the struggle—
I am walked with,
by the one to whom I offer my praise.
Also, I have found over my years of praising God,
that I am most changed by this praise.
I am most turned
when I turn to praise.
This is not trite, or silly, or superstitious, or weird,
but it is my way of gaining pure,
holy, sacred power
over my affliction.
I give my breath in praise
and the hope that comes with
each new one I take.