Out Of the Depths
“Out of the depths”, the Psalmist wrote in days of old,
“I cry to Thee” and heard he was, so we are told;
So too I cry to Thee from depths my God this night,
Not at the start, or end, but mid-point in the fight.How far I’ve roamed comes crashing down as music plays,
Music from my childhood years – foundation’s days;
Ah Seville! You music grand, you lift my heart,
And hope returns as I recall it’s lumpy start –Three weeks was all they had to make that Opera fine;
He wrote upstairs while down rehearsed, each act refined;
The trick? He pulled the rejects from a range of works,
And stitched together out-takes – now the last were first.Is that, O Lord, the key to how we move from here?
The last, the cut, rejected, full of fear
Stitched in so they can take a part in larger scene,
No longer on the edge of life, but where new hope is seen?For who are we but folk who’ve crashed and burned,
And by Your grace these years of selves have learned?
We have so much to give despite rejection’s acts
Which burned within our hearts, now match with Barber’s facts.navigation