there are not many choices
really there are only two to be exact
to suffer in union with Christ, or not
for to suffer not is not a choice
at least not while we are passing through
so, we lift up our tired eyes
we strain our necks elevating our chins
we become like David
we strum our harps
for kings are not the only ones who sing sad psalms
David is not the only musician of pain
for just this morning I saw several on their way to work
one drove a van, another a box truck, a third carried a broom
each had a song, each strummed along
each is of the house of David, each a spouse of Mary
which ones however, if any, offered up the pain
that I do not know
only our Father above knows who it is that unites his suffering to Christ’s
only the silent Christ in each one of us could make such a noble choice
—yet another man named Joseph, a son of David
(Howard Hain)
(March 11, 2016)