A Poem on Psalm 1

The rod of oak - a scepter tall
stands in his hand - the captor.
Its roots are digging out a trench,
its top will touch the heavens.

He comes to break that foul regime
that claims to stand for freedom.
He comes to barricade our fears
and bind them to tradition.

He is the lawman come at last
to lock away the drifter,
He comes to clear the sandy banks;
He comes to end erosion.

The law we’ve learned to tolerate
he names a perfect vision.
His words sketch out the garden gate
and wait for our decision.

But there is no garden to be seen,
just walls and rules - a prison.
A captor offering us a choice,
his rules or “move on grifter”.

The tumbleweed spins across the land
It’s life is one of freedom.
It cannot understand the oak,
It cannot love its planting.

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Other things to read

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    A poem based on Psalm 7, written by D.S. Chapman
  • A Poem on Psalm 46
    A poem based on Psalm 46, written by D.S. Chapman
  • A Poem on Psalm 2
    A poem based on Psalm 2, written by D.S. Chapman


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