The strings are ringing

rings cause singing

singing songs of love forever

until the lovers forget


yet even then i hear your song

in the night, through right and wrong

a call to join the dancing throng

and let the healing happen


Giving ear and taking there

And looking up though in despair

I’ve no strength for a fight-not-fair,

come Love, and fight for me.


He fought it all and won the war,

he gave Himself, his son, much more,

than all that we were looking for.

And when it doesn’t look that way,

it’s our vision that is wrong.


the winds, they blow for their own part,

to tell the tale of Love’s true heart,

to take us from the the deepest dark

and bring us home again.


brass squeaks and squeals and tunes their section,

crying out the ressurection,

the power and might of heaven’s perfection,

much more than first we know.


Percussion clambers, clangs and bangs,

beating drums  while syncopation hangs…

beating rythms, crying pangs,

stealing feelings, pulling in…


They tune and calm, conductor stands,

taps his wands, and with raised hands,

unaware of Truth’s great plans,

the symphonies awaken.


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