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A Different 23rd Psalm


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When we scattered Bill's ashes in England, my step-kid's mum read a scripture to me: the 23rd Psalm from "The Word on the Street," which is a modern interpretation of the bible. It's author, Rob Lacey, also fought through cancer while writing this book. In fact he defied his doctor's predictions and lived long enough to finish the book (and another). At age 43, he lost his battle in 2006.

Psalm 23, from The Word on the Street

You're my guide and my guard, my minder, my mentor.

What more do I need? What's better at the centre?

You sit me down, put my best CD on,

And my dismembered soul remembers who I am again.

You're with me; you comfort me.

And you hold my swaying heart -- so soft, so strong.

You're with me, you comfort me.

You stop them tearing me apart -- I fear no wrong.

You show me where to go, without telling me;

You set a value on my life, without selling me.

You're with me, you comfort me.

You call me to the streets; you show me such good things.

Right things with no hidden strings -- just your name on.

My soul celebrates; there's something about your great repute,

Like a distant flute it comforts me.

I crawl through the alley of the shadow of cancer;

I know, you know the answer, and the battle won't rattle me.

You're around, and I've found there's something about your empathy,

Your symphony of sympathy, that comforts me.

You lay out a table; you sit me down;

My rivals arrive from the greatest to the least,

But my cup's kept full, and my head's held high

As you boast about me, your least priest,

And make them toast me right through the feast.

Boy, does it comfort me!

I know that your good, your best, your love and passion

Will stalk me, steer me, stand alongside me,

Outlast every fad and fashion, through all eternity.

For I'm going to live with you,

See heaven's great views from my own cosmic mews;

No lease to renew, no terms to review, no one else to view --

Just me and you, me and you, me and you,

Right through, to the end of time.

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