I began this setting of Psalm 57 during the pandemic. The isolated qualities of the text, with occasional reaches towards hope, captured much of the general feeling of this time.
Be merciful unto me, O God, be merciful unto me: for my soul trusteh in thee:
yeah, in the shadow of thy wings will I make my refuge, until these calamities have passed.
I will cry unto God most high: unto God that performeth all things for me.
He shall send from heaven, and save me from the reproach of him that would swallow me up.
God shall send forth his mercy and his truth.
My soul is among lion: and I lie even among them that are set on fire.
Be thou exalted, O God, above the heavens; let thy glory be above all the earth.