Poetry

Psalm 127 — The Bread of Sorrows

A Ballad

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The interior of a damaged church building with broken wood scattered around.
Image by Brigitte Werner from Pixabay

You built a house upon the sand
Of empty, shaky creeds;
You did not tend and nurture love,
And it was choked with weeds.

You preach and fast and pray in vain
When God is not your heart:
To rise up early, stay up late,
Is futile on your part.

The Shepherd stands among the sheep;
Their legacy He keeps;
He gives to His beloved sleep;
And holds them when they weep.

The rain descending, floods are here,
And winds beat at your walls.
Your heart is void; your roots can’t hold;
And great will be your fall.

But I will never be ashamed:
He set me on the Rock.
My enemies will seek me out,
And we will sit and talk.

The Shepherd stands among the sheep;
Their legacy He keeps;
He gives to His beloved sleep;
And holds them when they weep.

Esther learned to read when she was four years old, and began writing shortly thereafter. She is a queer Christian poet, crafting with words to create art and music.

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