I've always liked saying the word "lovingkindness."
It feels very King James; it rolls off the tongue with a hint of the exotic flavor of archaic language. Written as one word, it's quite memorable, and as a word person, I rather enjoy it.
I also have some nostalgic attachments to the word. I remember my mom teaching me to sing Pslam 63:3 - "Thy lovingkindness is better than life / Thy lovingkindness is better than life / my lips shall praise thee / thus will I bless thee / I will lift up my hands unto thy name."
But it wasn't until about a year ago that the word really started to mean something to me beyond the quaint combination of descriptor and noun. I started to see why it was written as a single word.
I wrote this poem in mid-July and early September of last year, in a time of being both convicted and comforted, when I started to understand just a little bit more of God's love and care for us, and the word "lovingkindness" began to actually mean something.
I’ve been obsessed with the silliest dreams –
the stupidest schemes
the most harmful things
I’ve been engrossed in the life without pattern –
the noise and the clatter
of things that don’t matter
But I’ve been awakening to all my excuses –
the mythical muses
and insincere truces
And I’ve been attempting to wait and be faithful –
lay down what I long for
to rest and be thankful
Now I’m finally starting to step out in blindness –
your song in the silenceevokes lovingkindness