POETRY: Lament Psalm Sixteen, by Ann Weems

Lament Psalm Sixteen Ann Weems

O God, will this night never end?
Give me sleep, O God!
Give me rest!
Erase from my memory
the moments of his death.
Blot out the terror
and the ever-present fear
and let me sleep.
I lie upon this bed
tortured by thoughts
that come unbidden.
The night is full of demons.
They stand upon my heart
until I cannot breathe.
There is nothing in my world
this night except his death.
O God, bring the morning light.

Is it not enough
that he is dead?
That there is nothing
I can do
to change what is?
Must I spend each night
revisiting the unlit
corridors of death?

O God, be merciful!
Bring the dawn!
Come into this night
and tear it into day!

O my God, you are hope.
You take the bonds of death
and break them
into pieces of life.
The demons of the night
cower and hide
from the brilliance
of your presence.
You alone can banish the night
and create the sweet stream
of morning’s light.
There is none who can stop you,
for you are the God of light
and the light of my soul.


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