Psalm 49 (a lament)

Nameless, I begin, Lord of All Names;
~~pulled wingless by children, Origin of Flight and Air, I am lower than a fly.

I stand without the world, Father of Creation,
~~nothing but a weary witness to its end.

They call me American, fierce eagle, proud;
~~they summon my keen sight to their aim: where is Your greater height?

They imagine me woman, title me white, shifting as moonlight in a stream;
~~they set my place at once above my reach yet beneath their feet: where is Your gender bridge?

They christen me in their tradition, now on a mountain, down in a valley, like a mule weighted with notions;
~~they announce their conclusions for the sake of echo: where is Your initial word?

Name me Your child, Lord, and I will be born to You;
~~I will live where isle and land are a reflection of heaven and every sound in Jerusalem is new.