Psalm 47—Ring the words on your hollow heart’s bell.
Ring the words
On your hollow heart’s bell.
Fling and strike the song
To every corner: God is king.
The Lord layers his rule
Down on the lacerated land
In hoards, in heaves, in mountains,
in downward drawing, heaven-heighted droves.
Everyone who listens lays their petty kingdom
At his feet in heaps, kneels and joins the knell,
Bright blows the bell, topples
Their stricken selves and tips
Their spiraling heights whole over.
God himself is lifted and struck,
And the whole earth resounds.
His unrolling trumpet blast at last
Sounds heaven down to ground.
Sing it back, take it up
Until everyone is wakened,
Welcomed, greatened, circled
Around his throne and shouting
Up to the vast, keening heights.
Then the dance begins.
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