Seven Psalm

The names of God, they scamper, like lemurs, dance under daylight. The name of God is a calling, sounding as the indri calls. The names of God, who captures them, who keeps them held in hand? The name is not prey to be hunted, not meat to be boiled and spiced, not stew to be served and tasted. The names, they pass through midsummer, searching out, seeking ripe fruit. The name, it wrestles a quarter hour and cuddles up to its love forever. The names are a kiss in the foliage and a roar to the hawk in the skies. The morning's song: that is the name. Six times daily it brings its music; seven times daily, calling in the dawn.