weather – Kate Bluett

When you rend the skies asunder
and the earth dissolves in fire,
will it sounds like summer thunder
when the wind is rising higher?
When we see your lightning flashing
as the clouds are turning black,
will we greet the rain with laughter
like it's mercy coming back?

As the angels weep for glory
and they gather 'round your throne
crying, Holy, holy, holy,
like cicadas' endless drone,
will you take a coal that's burning—
just a Texas summer day—
purify all that's unworthy,
set our hearts and minds ablaze?

Until then, O lord and savior,
let the mockingbird still sing;
let the chorus of cicadas
tell the summer you are king.
Though the grasses start to wither—
for they fade away like us—
we will praise you while we're still here,
'til your storm kicks up our dust.

For Advent, with a lot of Psalm 97 thrown in.

But when the mountains shout for joy,
oh, who could fearless stand?
Who would not tremble at a voice
erupting from the land?

For when the heights all bow their heads
and humbly kneel them down,
even the cedars fall in dread,
as matchwood on the ground.

But then the valleys lift their eyes,
rejoicing in the day.
To see the sun of justice rise,
they make a level way.

For long and long creation groaned,
but now it shall bring forth
in cataclysm, fire, and stone
to greet its God on earth.

Then let my stone heart melt like wax
before the Lord, who comes,
for every root shall feel his axe
that will not first bow down.

And let my deepest sorrows rise
to touch that level way
where he shall dry our weeping eyes
when all things are remade.

Mount Rinjani eruption in 1994, in Lombok, Indonesia By Oliver Spalt, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=141934

Tag: weather

Summer Thunder

The Mountains Shout For Joy