Psalm 51: Wash Me

Have mercy on me, God, as you are holy.
Have mercy, Lord, for you are merciful.
Though I have wandered far from my own soul now,
you are yourself, a well forever full.

Have mercy, though I walk in my transgressions
and, feasting, fill my mouth with sand and dust.
I dream of rain and wake to find a desert:
If this is water, why do I still thirst?

A heart of stone can live on dust and ashes;
create a heart for me of flesh and blood
that feels the fear of loss and sting of gladness.
Renew me, and my barren shoots will bud.

You are the only sea: Fill this dry streambed.
You are the rain: Then quench these thirsting bones.
Let floods destroy my shame and self-deceiving.
The record of my sin make blank as snow.

Lord, open up my lips to taste your waters,
and in between the sips I'll sing your praise.
This desert that I built I will not offer,
but let this beating heart be yours always.

Self Made: Shot in Chicago in the parking lot of the Century Shopping Center on April 15, 2007 By Victorgrigas at English Wikipedia – Own work: Originally from en.wikipedia; description page is/was here., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2148320

Rend Your Hearts

Year after year my heart I've rent;
day after day again.
Relent, O God! Will you relent?
I wither until then.

How can this heart of stone still feel?
For look: It bleeds like flesh.
Can you restore?  Can you yet heal
what rushes on toward death?

But if you can, then heal my heart,
you who have seen its wounds.
Make me unstained as at my start,
who make the lepers new.

Wash me with hyssop, purging me;
pour rivers through my soul.
If you will cleanse me, I am clean—
Let Jordan's waters roll.

And when in silence I am come,
finding that farther shore,
finish the work you have begun.
Bring stone to life once more!

For now I make my whispered plea
amid the dust and noise:
Renew the heart that beats in me!
Give back salvation's joys!

Auchencar standing stone with farm in background By © User:Colin / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=26698896

Ash Wednesday

Now is the desert yawning

where you have led our steps;

now is the dim-lit dawning

showing the days far-spent.



Oh, could I tear my garments,

could some repentance show!

How can I rend what's hardened?

How can I mend this stone?



Teach me to count the moments,

each one a fading breath:

Finite I then shall know them,

reckon the days 'til death.



Visit me, Lord, in secret.

Though my left hand is blind,

all of my sins, you see them:

See where I would go right.



Teach me to know me guilty;

show me my hidden schemes.

Wash me then with your hyssop;

clease me, and I am clean.



Bring me through fire and water,

long though the road may be.

Make us a way, O Father:

Make all our stone hearts beat.

More details

Ash Wednesday by Carl Spitzweg: the end of Carnival

By Carl Spitzweg – The Yorck Project (2002) 10.000 Meisterwerke der Malerei (DVD-ROM), distributed by DIRECTMEDIA Publishing GmbH. ISBN: 3936122202., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=159077

Create an Unstained Heart in Me

Based on Psalm 51:

Create an unstained heart in me
and make my spirit new,
for my old heart sits heavily,
and I can hardly move.

No sacrifice do you desire,
no gold or fatted calf, 
but lay this heart upon the pyre
and let it turn to ash.

Then wash me, and I shall be clean;
with hyssop make me pure
and pour your waters over me
to make me ever yours.

Though I have sinned against you, God—
my sin before me lies—
have mercy on me in your love
and give me strength to rise.

Give back the joy I knew before;
give music to my voice
and let me hear your song once more:
Let broken bones rejoice.

And I shall sing your praise again,
a new heart beat in time
the endless song: Amen, amen,
when your heart beats in mine.

*The Prophet Nathan rebukes King David*, oil on canvas by Eugène Siberdt, 1866–1931 (Mayfair Gallery, London) – http://mayfairgallery.com/index.php?location=item&item=19480&section=recent, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=44786866

The Broken

I did not set out to write a poem about hearts for Valentine’s Day; I’d actually forgotten Valentine’s was today when I started this poem on Friday. I just happened to finish it today and realize it was all about hearts. So here you go: An adaptation of Psalm 51‘s “Create in me a clean heart”:

Not as I see do you see, God:
My depths are bright to you.
Look into me and see my heart;
reach out and make it new.

Not turned from dregs of dust and mud
nor chiselled from the stone,
but shape in me new flesh and blood,
each pulse from you alone.

Give back the joy I had at first,
when hearing of your name
would fill my hunger, still my thirst,
and kindle me to flame.

In mercy let me speak of you,
unworthy as I am:
The words my wounded soul renew—
oh, make me whole again!

If not, then let this be my gift:
a heart and spirit bowed.
Though I have nothing better left,
this off'ring I lay down.

And you who see into my depths,
you will not spurn them, Lord,
for you who live in broken bread
the broken will not scorn.

Medieval mount; cast lead alloy mount of probable late medieval or early post medieval date. The mount is in the shape of a heart, decorated over both faces with moulded, raised, cross-hatched lines. It has a single iron rivet in the centre. Height 16.1mm, width 15.2mm, thickness (plate) 2.1mm, thickness (inc rivet) 5.8mm, weight 2.19g Ref: compare Ref: Egan and Pritchard ‘Dress Accessories: Medieval finds from excavations in London’ (pp. 202 & 203, nos. 1095) for lead/tin figurative mounts of similar feel. By The Portable Antiquities Scheme/ The Trustees of the British Museum, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=55668595

Create In Me

A clean heart create for me, God;
renew within me a steadfast spirit.
Do not drive me from before your face,
nor take from me your holy spirit.
Restore to me the gladness of your salvation;
uphold me with a willing spirit.
Psalm 51: 12-14

 Create in me a heart made clean,
 a place swept bare by desert winds,
 where nothing but the truth is seen
 and glaring sun can bleach my sins.

Give me that strength of spirit, Lord,
 to stand yet steadfast in the sun
 and feel the heat upon me poured,
 and still to stand, and not to run.
  
 I cannot make myself at all—
 Lord, make yourself a place in me.
 Let it be clean, though poor and small:
You said the clean of heart would see,
  
 and I would see you, if I might,
 and know you, though I know naught else.
 Though in the glare I lose my sight
 and in your gaze I lose myself,
  
 still make a space for you in me,
 and I shall have salvation's joys.
 Give me your eyes that I may see;
 give me your ears to hear your voice.