Psalm 29

with Callie Feyen

Hello, Poetry Friend

I almost didn’t write a poem for Psalm 29 because Callie’s “Ascribe” was so darn good! It helps that her husband has a weather-related job. (He wears a bowtie. You can trust him.)

But I had to write it because I can’t resist a psalm about storms. Down here in Texas, it hardly ever rains; it storms. There is no rain without lightning and thunder and, often in May, hail. My husband and I, as lifelong Texans, pull chairs into the garage and sit and watch. Sometimes we video rain. Sometimes our neighbors do too.

My poem is a bouts-rimés from Edna St. Vincent Millay’s “Sonnet XXX.” That means I used the last word in every line of her poem as the last line in every line of mine. I also echoed her words at the start and at the end because 1) they are so good, and 2) they pair well with David’s psalm.

Psalm 29
	a bouts-rimés with Edna St. Vincent Millay’s “Sonnet XXX”

Storm is not all, though it gives the trees a drink
of that gift that is not mist, not smear, but rain –
real rain from Heaven, surely. We sink
to our seats in the garage to watch, at last, again,
that wet so like love, like kisses’ breath,
like blood that locates us, like bone –
the skeleton that separates us from death.
Oh, God. This Friday night we are all alone
together. Hail comes hard, then slow, this hour. 
The cedars break. The calves bawl, crave release,
a pasture with a better view, more power,
more green found almost anywhere else. Peace.
Oh, Voice of thunder, of glory, of wilderness food – 
what if I hid from your whirl? I do not think I would.

Happy poeming!

Megan