~/139Searched and known. "Where can I flee from your presence?" — wings of the dawn, the depths, "even there your hand." Knit together in the womb, fearfully and wonderfully made, and then, without warning, the imprecation against enemies that lectionaries politely skip. Intimacy with a jagged edge.
~/23The shepherd psalm. Still waters, the valley of the shadow, a table prepared in the presence of enemies. The most familiar poem in the language, worn smooth by ten thousand funerals — which is both its glory and the thing that makes it hard to hear fresh.
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