A Modern Psalm
Oh, Lord, why do I chafe against rest
And fight against silence
Like a wrestler pressing for advantage
Or pulling for escape
With all his might?
I labor to fill the open hours
Hours thou hast opened for me
I lust after tasks that will fill the silence
With the white noise of business or news
I pretend that this is virtue
When rest is really what you have afforded
What you have ordained
That perhaps I might do the deeper work
Allow thee the deeper work
Of re-ordering life.
I fear thee, I guess
But this is not the fear
Thou hast desired.
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