A poem on Psalm 17.
O Lord, hear now my righteous Plea,
and lend Your ear to Truth for me.
My lips are free from any deceit,
Your eyes have judged my ways complete.
You’ve tested me in darkest night;
my heart stayed Pure, my steps kept Right.
No wicked word escaped my tongue;
from paths of harm, my feet have run.
I call on You, for You will hear;
Your love is Steadfast, ever near.
Show wondrous Mercy, hand Divine,
to those who Trust Your power and Sign.
Protect me as the apple’s core;
beneath Your Wings, I’m safe—Secure.
The Wicked close; their hearts are Cold;
their mouths speak Pride; their schemes are bold.
They track my steps, their eyes consume
to cast me down—to seal my doom.
But rise, O Lord; confront their might.
Deliver me by holy fight.
Set Your hand ‘gainst the worldly man
who craves his fill of earthly land.
Yet I shall wake, my face aglow,
in likeness of Your Truth to know.
The Lutheran Column 