Poem June 21, 1982 Issue

Reflections on Psalm 150

L. DANA GATLIN

The feet of that Psalmist
are on the ground
beneath strong, springy legs.
He has no time
for nebulous glory—good intentions
that will never know action.

The man wants praise that counts,
and he wants it loud.
(Try praising the Lord
with a quiet trumpet.)

He makes me want to leap
so that I can bong
not just any cymbal
but the high-sounding ones.
The Lord loves a good bong
on a high-sounding cymbal.

I am not sure what a timbrel is—
except it is not muted.

L. DANA GATLIN

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