Without The Music
Quiet has no notes to wake her up
From muffled morning’s sleepy headed slumber.
She hangs her winsome head,
languishing in her lonely bed.
Hoping that a harp will play, or
maybe a cello will save the day.
Praying a piano quite possibly might
Or trumpets wake the dead
Say arise, awake
With blasts of wind
instruments, drums and snare,
Replacing thick and quiet air
Violins or soothing flute
The horns will shout forth
an exclamation point.
Breaking the blistering silence of her mind
Hoping a happy stanza
peppered with piccolo will fill the air
But instead the quiet
Lingers, hanging void
The music hidden, lost,
Life without a song
Sounds like life
Without a pulse
Silence fills the air.
Only black and white
All color gone, no song.
The music must play on.
The strings shall sing, the harmony restore
The runs, the rifts, the ivories,
The keys will sing from lips of fingertips
Melody and symphony, sharps and flats
Notes from low to high, cascading making merry in the dark
Mirroring or changing the mood within the room
Transforming quiet, into music,
Give me a blessed song that wakes my spirit up.
Turns the sad and lonely mood around
Plays hymns of praise
My anthem raise
No longer will I live my days,
Alone in silence lingering long
Without the sounds of dancing
On clouds of spirit-thought.
Playing in the chambers,
The rooms of my heart.
Joining Laura at Laura Boggess dot com for her Playdates at The Wellspring.
I want to wander upon wonder
Brush up against beauty
Pick up pieces of particular perfection
Breathe in the moments too precious to pass by
I want to gather up shimmering rays from the sky
Pack my pockets with intangible gifts
Slow to the beat of the earth’s natural rhythm
Tell you I love you a million times million
I want to praise with my life
Sing with my lips, songs and old hymns
Again and again till my lungs empty flat out
Soak in the broken, but beautiful before me
I want to be blinded by glistening small ordinary
See past the obvious to what lies beyond
Peel back the layers of meaning and winsome
Press past the concrete and into the waiting
I want to hope with the hurting and cry with the sad ones
Reach out to souls sinking in pain and despair
Wipe the tears creeping down cheeks, chins and noses
Of wrinkled and weary worn out ones
I want to love the unloveable empty and lonely
Point out the grace and the mercy right here
Not miss a chance to say something small
That causes connection between me and you.
I want to answer a calling, divine, sacred, holy
Make art that speaks to the hidden and seen
Gather up fragments of splintered and broken
Love and write with a faith that grows daily.
Sink into moments divine, yet all mine
Marked and apportioned for a time such as this
Soaked in the simple, drenched in holy bliss
A divine assignment is wrapped round this day.
(Inspiration for today’s post drawn from the words of Elora Nicole who is teaching me a few things about words.)
Joining Jennifer for #tellhisstory
Hem in my heart that it would be wholly focused on You, beating to a rhythm of an Advent life
Hem in my words that they may speak only blessing, gentle peace, exuberant joy inspired by you
Hem in my mind that I would dwell on Your birth, Your life and Your transformative grace
Hem in my home, that we would live God honoring, Light giving, and Soul nourishing in this and every season.
And hem me in, by your power and not mine alone.
Glory and Honor to You
Bust open our hearts and prepare Him plenty of room
While Heaven and Nature and all God’s people sing,
With Hymns of Praise
Singing a Hemmed in Amen