For the director of music. A psalm of David.
How blest is the one who is kind to the poor!
Jehovah will save him in his time of woe.
The LORD will protect him and keep him secure;
on earth he will prosper and all men will know.
The LORD will not let him fall to the impure;
nor will he succumb to the will of his foe.
The LORD will sustain him when he's sick in bed,
restore him to healthiness he never knew.
"Be gracious to me, LORD, and heal me," I pled,
"for I, once again, have transgressed against you."
With evil and malice my enemies said,
"how soon will he die and his name perish, too?"
The wicked will visit and act as my friend,
yet speak with me falsely and gather each word;
the first thing he does when he goes 'round the bend,
is tell everyone everything he has heard.
They whisper their hatred of me -- in the end,
devising their worst plans of harm, they conferred:
"A fatal disease has him lying in bed;
he'll never be able to leave his front door."
And even my close friends with whom I've shared bread,
have turned and betrayed me like those I abhor.
O LORD, give me grace, raise me up in your stead,
that I may repay them with justice once more.
By this do I know I am favored these days:
my enemies are not victorious men.
Preserving my life for my virtuous ways,
I'm placed in your presence for time without end.
The LORD, God of Israel, all blessings and praise
forever and ever! Amen and Amen.
This poem was a finalist in the May 2021 poetry contest