Psalm 17


I will love thee, O Lord of Love
For loving is my force, that thou has delivered me
My God, my strength, in whom I care to trust;
Sharpen me then on the canvas of relationship
For by harmony I admit I have praised
Thee a hundred times, save me from the snare
Of mine enemies, who do not treat me fairly
The sorrows of life will be well compensated for
In my distress I can always call upon thee
And I shall cry easily unto The Lord of Love
Who soothes all wounds and whose voice
Is my temple, so let the Earth care for me
As I would care for the children of her coasts
For human beings make darkness a kind of sanctuary
And in brightness cannot last, or cannot face
For to be made perfect for the perfect love
Can take a lifetime of trying, of giving and receiving
Before we learn how to truly give
And in perfect suffering find a miraculous compassion
For ourselves and for all things
This be my salvation and my holy shield
To care ever more and more, like a sensitive child
For the things that hurt and the afflicted people.

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