The Psalmists
The psalmists write themselves from sorrow into joy.
They thirst and pant and fear their way
To momentary peace,
While waiting, always waiting for a Sign:
This fallen world will someday be made
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inigo rey 
Your previous poem reminded me of a psalm, and then, by God’s syncronicity, you post this. Lovely.
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Thank you. I do like the rythms of the psalms in most translations. Incidentally, not many people who use Jumg’s term correctly, or understand that he really attributes it to the deep nature of reality aka. God.
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