Life is a puzzle; we are the clues, and God is the answer.
There is a hymn inside my heart that begs to be sung,
Waiting for my wobbly fingers to strum
The strings of my soul’s discordant melody.
But my lips refuse to sing the notes
That would pull my soul out of the void;
For though it badly needs to hear the music
It fears the thundering boom of the drums.
So I sit around, hoping for someone to play a song
All the while knowing it’s got to be me;
I wait here, daydreaming for a concerto
All the while knowing my ears have become deaf
To the music of the life around me.
Tell me, how can I sing my heart’s tune
Without first fixing the pitch of my thoughts?
I’ve forgotten my lines, I can’t relate to the melody;
Sing to me, sing to me so that I may remember
That there is a hymn that begs to be sung within me.
//Sherma E. Benosa
18 May 2008; 5:46pm
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