Interrupted by a Poem

Psalm of a Tangled Time (no. 1?)

Everybody liked Saul until they didn’t anymore,

when he was old and life hadn’t gone they way he thought it would

but not as bad as his visions which he told to no one

because they didn’t make sense:

A farmer sowing sometimes on hard rock or tossing to the wind

to be eaten by birds; or seeds that sometimes grew

into a vast tree surrounded by a river

of blood soaking into every land like wine spilling from a cup.

The tree sighing in the wind with longing for a gardener.

So hauntingly beautiful that tree’s song

even if the roots were red. He kept falling into visions

until people stopped listening because they couldn’t hear

his voice.


Saul thought a kingdom would keep them safe

even the people he didn’t know,

or the ones he didn’t like, but especially his children,

even those who loved his adopted son,

that one who made some tragic mistakes,

the one who also seemed haunted by visions

and words that seem to fly out of his mouth

and into the future.


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