The God of Israel has spoken;
the Rock of Israel has said to me:
“One who rules over people justly,
ruling in the fear of God,
is like the light of morning,
like the sun rising on a cloudless morning,
gleaming from the rain on the grassy land.”
Is not my house like this with God?

– 2 Samuel 23:3-5

My eyes no longer see as far as they once did.
My hands are creaky, laid upon the strings.
My knees and elbows crack, and truth to tell,
I’d rather spend the day in memory than rule.

The time will surely shortly come when I
shall make my bed in Sheol rather than
within this palace of my grandeur. No more
shall Abijag console me with her warmth.

But then, no longer must I listen to
the not-so-welcome words of Nathan. There
are benefits to dying. Such as making peace
with shame and guilt (if not with those I slew).

And so:

Was not my reign a paragon of right?
(Ignore the tales of rape and sons’
rebellion, though another looms e’en now.)
Did I not shine as dew reflects the morn?

Who now will contradict my words? They’ll hold
them close and celebrate how wise I was
when, near the end, I sang the truth
that earthly power, even mine, is judged by God.

How will they know that as I played
my fingers caught upon the strings, my voice
was husky with the tears that streamed, because
I knew the truth and then composed the lie.

A poem/prayer based on 2 Samuel 23:1-7, the Revised Common Lectionary First Reading for Year B, Reign of Christ.

The image is King David by Peter Paul Rubens (by 1640) – Corel Professional Photos CD-ROM, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10324682.