What today?
Shall I write a song or a poem today —
Perhaps a song about finding a lover late in life who rescued me from my grief and despair —
Perhaps an anthem of peace and humanity surviving with love in the face of old hatreds —
Perhaps a long ballad with twists and turns and clever meandering phrases and metaphors —
Perhaps a sonnet, perhaps a haiku —
Perhaps something no one has ever seen before — yes, yes, I know nothing is new under the sun, but perhaps I can muster something I have never mustered before, and so in that sense it would be new.
I walk into the storeroom looking for a bottle of Resolve. I know there are countless — or at least a few score — mornings when I awoke full of beans and said, “I wish I could bottle this energy and this resolve so I could drink them again on a day when I need them,” and surely I managed to bottle them on some of those mornings.
Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart and fingers be acceptable to you, Lord, not just today but always.
