For these next few, I’m writing hymn lyrics. I worship with a large group of believers who was first on the ground when the tornado hit — a congregation whose worship moves them into action and so inspires me.
I’m writing these for them and for my worship minister friends to tinker with–hopefully there’s something hymn-worthy in here. That’s the context — if they’re not your thing or you’re not a Christian, I won’t apologize for who I am, but stick around, there will be others you’ll like. — LtmS
When witless slip I to the brink
of Hell’s abyss of lies
the faith of Abram place in me,
increase it, doff disguise.
When faceless roam I in our land
of darkness, pain, and death,
the hope of Heaven ease my load,
God give my dust your breath.
When heartless wound I every soul,
from friends demand cruel deeds,
grant me the mercy, grace and love
on which your Godhead feeds.
These three, dear God, instill in me
let these become my cry:
the faith of fathers, hope of Heaven,
love of Jesus Christ.
_________
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For newcomers — a note on 50 @ 25:
Once upon a time, I read that the perfect age for writing quality poetry is twenty-three. Apparently most of T.S. Elliot’s stuff came out then, the rest of his work being supposedly non-poetic. This resulted in 46 poems written at 23.
These poems came out exponentially faster and faster before my 24th birthday on April 30th – and I had to write in genres spanning from epic ballads to limericks to get 46 in on time. I guess that means, for better or worse, that’s the best poetry I’ll ever write. Sad day.
Who was I kidding?
Milton was blind and old—oooooold—when he publishedParadise Regained. Emily Dickenson was dead when her stuff came out. My favorite stuff from T.S. Elliot came out after his conversion. So yeah, old age is good for poetry too. Look at Burns and Berry.
(Side note: the name “Berry Burns” sounds like a shady car salesman).
Will I keep up this twice-my-age regimen every few years? Who knows, but this year, here’s to 50 poems at 25 to be written exponentially faster until I turn 26 on April Thirtyish. I do it this the second time around as a way to say: “Here’s to living life well before it’s too late.”
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