Canadian Summer Psalm 23

Canadian Summer Psalm 23

John Terpstra

Creator Guide,

I have most everything
I want, my needs
are more than simply
met,

you’ve more than simply earned
my trust.

You invite these tired bones
to lie down in the grass,
You take me to your favourite
camping spot
by the lake
to watch the water’s surface
turn to glass
at sunset.

You restore
body and soul
with tree and leaf,
with sand and soil and rock,
cloud and breeze.

You lead me
ever on
the narrow path
that is blazed for my feet
through the wood of this world,

for your own sake,
your own reasons,

which I see

but dimly and fleetingly,
between the trees.

Ha! Even though
I go barefoot
through the darkest dense forest
with shadows only
for company,

and must squeeze myself
between the rock
of my mortality
and the hard place
of never ever wanting to leave
life and its beauty
behind,

I swallow my fear
of anything bad happening

because you’re here:

your carved walking stick
and your trusty hatchet
are a comfort.

You gather firewood
and prepare
a veritable banquet
of wild edibles
in the presence
of every demon
black dog and dementor
I have ever faced.

You wash my hair in the lake.

My tin camp cup overflows.

I can hardly believe
how confident I feel
that this goodness
and the mercy that falls
as a light rain
with the sun shining through

will accompany and surround me
all the days I have left to live

and I will dwell
with my friends
inside the tent
of my wilderness guide
and trek companion
forever,

and the circle
will be unbroken
around the campfire,

and there will be no more pain
or sorrow
on all your holy mountain,
or in the streets of the city,

and we will sit on logs and tree stumps
together again,
listening to the sounds
of creation restored

singing folk songs,
gazing into
the pentecostal flames.

---

John Terpstra
Poet 

John is the author of of two books of prayers, five books of creative non-fiction, and twelve poetry books, including Call Me Home (2021, Gaspereau Press).

Photography by Artem Balashevsky