Psalm for My Earthly Soul

Psalm for My Earthly Soul

February 13, 2020

By Marla Mulloy

Let the mystics care to go into the heart of God.
I cannot seem to leave this earthly place.
But this I know about the heart of God,

I will lift you up on eagles wings
            You that are shouting and marching in the streets among strangers
            Railing against the machine that is causing our climate to change
            and it’s hidden, awful possibilities for our own suffering and destruction
            ignored by those in power who hurl us toward this future.

I will lift you up on eagles wings
            You that have fled your own family home amid bullets and suffering and destruction and
            horror, who now simply ask, without common language, how to find the food that you
            need to provide for your children a meal and how, then, to get it home to your tiny, empty
            apartment without a car or knowledge of transit or arms enough to carry the many plastic
            bags of flour and oil and onions and spice and then what is this kitchen place and how
            can I make it smell like home, all strange dials and small pots.
            Where is my family and how shall I live without ever seeing them again, how shall I raise
            my children in this place of safety when all that was familiar is gone and replaced by
            strangeness without grandparents or sisters and cousins all around

I will lift you up on eagles wings
            You who have decided that not living is better than living.
            You who have witnessed so much suffering that you cannot withstand anymore.
            You who have wished for not living for so long because the act of trying so hard to live
            like those around you when you don’t feel anything like those around you and the voices
            in your head are so loud, you simply, after careful planning, leave this world, even
            though those who loved you wished for you to stay.
            And you who left with no warning, taking your own life in front of your best friends,
            leaving them to forever question why and your mother to weep and walk and wonder.

I will lift you up on eagles wings
            You, my son of an Afghan mother, who cannot be still for a minute in case you should
            remember the moments of terror and loss in your own life and those memories might
            overpower you and you will break.
            You, young man, not allowing yourself to reflect on memories of your own lovely
            mother, your serious father, your brothers and sister, dead now, murdered and buried
            somewhere that you do not know; you push those memories away lest they break your
            strong heart and you bleed forever.

 I will lift you up on eagles wings
            And you shall rest with the fawn by the stream,
            bathed in the light of the sun,
            still and knowing that I am God,
            my kingdom shall come
            and you shall have your daily bread,
            warm and fragrant and enough.




Marla Mulloy is a writer with an evolving collection of essays, poems and stories, having been recently published in “The Timberline Review” and “Brevity Blog”. She has been a teacher and now works with refugees in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. Her writing reflects the experience of those who are finding refuge in new places, including relationship; seeking harmony in life as it is. She continues to share her writing through her blog:



You're also gonna like this one: Broken.




Photo by frank mckenna on Unsplash


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