Psalm 17 Poem by Justin Reamer

Yahweh, hear the plea of virtue,
listen to my appeal,
lend an ear to my prayer,
my lips free from dishonesty.
From Your Presence will my sentence come,
Your eyes are fixed on what is right.

You probe my heart, examine me at night,
You test me yet find nothing, no murmuring from me:
my mouth has never sinned as most men's do.

No, I have treasured the words from Your lips;
in the path prescribed walking deliberately
in Your footsteps, so that my feet do not slip.

I invoke You, God, and You answer me;
turn Your ear to me, hear what I say,
display Your marvellous kindness, Saviour of Fugitives!

From those who revolt against You,
guard me like the pupil of Your eye;
hide me in the shadow of Your wings
from the onslaughts of the wicked.

My enemies cluster round me, breathing hostility;
entrenched in their fat, their mouths utter arrogant claims;
now they are closing in,
they have eyes for nothing but to see me overthrown.
They look like a lion eager to tear to pieces,
like a young lion crouching in its hide.

Rise, Yahweh, subdue him face to face,
rescue my soul from the wicked with Your sword,
with Your Hand, Yahweh, rescue me from men,
from the sort of men whose lot is here and now.

Cram their bellies from Your stores,
give them all the sons that they could wish for,
let them have a surplus to leave their children!
For me the reward of virtue is to see Your face,
and, on walking, to gaze my fill on Your likeness.