Listen to the music all around you:
you’ll hear it in the softly blowing breeze,
in the song of birds chirping so gaily,
at play within the rustle of the trees.
Hear the sound of rain that pitter patters,
The rolling thunder that roars through the sky,
You can almost hear the parched earth as it
Relaxes and then heaves a grateful sigh.
Have you ever listened to the ocean
As its waves wash the shore so rhythmic’lly,
Heard the gurgle of a flowing river
That winds its way to mingle with the sea.
The music all around us is so sweet
How could we ever still our dancing feet .
Listen to the voices of your loved ones
At home, at work, or even when they’re far,
Hear a neighbour singing slightly off key,
Another one as he strums his guitar.
Hear the children chatter as they pass by
Whilst on their way to school or out to play,
Listen to the church bells in the distance,
Those sounds that we hear each and every day.
And even as I write my Mum is calling,
“Its time for lunch or aren’t you hungry yet”
Music to my ear each word she utters
Such music that I pray I’ll ne’er forget.
The music plays no matter where I go,
I hope it never ceases to be so.
The chorus of the early morning
wakes me with the seagulls clamour
– all the world is full of hunger and thirst,
each demanding cry a peevish stanza or verse
uttered in defiance of fragile mortality.
“Oh yes, we are doomed to perish”
sing the cicadas in the woods
“- but before the silence claims us
let us fill the forest with our resonant song,
a symphony of yearning and great wonder,
our gift to all the universe,
its many diverse species;
small and insignificant as we are
we too have our joys and sorrows which we wish to share,
casting forth our nets of sound
upon the trembling air,
as delicate as any web woven by spider or enchantress.
Listen, you passing traveller
lovers hand-in hand, or solitary unraveller…”
Sometimes it is hard to hear the silent inner voice
sometimes we think we are deprived
of any true direction or choice
but listen carefully if you will:
behind the nagging doubts and fears,
behind the old familiar cries of ghosts
that ever sing the same sad songs
– the happy songbird’s joyful trill.
He does not calculate his notes
or parcel out his melody,
a little, here, a little there,
but casts it freely on the air
like golden seed or gentle rain
that thirsty souls might freely take
and drink and thus be quenched,
made whole again.
O happy poet of the trees
sing another song for me!
Listen to the sound of your own heartbeat
Its rhythm like the ocean’s ebb and flow
This internal music that is with you
No matter where you are or where you go:
Feel the pulses raging through your body,
Give thanks, they are the proof that you’re alive,
Revel in your very own existence
That despite ups and downs you still survive .
Delight in every cadence, every beat
Our God has given music that is free
Each accent, every nuance is a gift
A wondrous privilege, this symphony.
‘The food of love’, the music’s everywhere
Just take the time to listen and you’ll hear.
All Nature is an orchestra and God is the conductor
but unlike Man’s strict symphonies
no note is ordained or fixed
but follows the inherent joy within the larger, growing song
of everything within the world, to which it does respond…
each tiny leaf, each insects wing, has a tiny part to sing
and none is greater than the other
for all are servants of the Song
and sing but for the Lover.
Even sorrow has its place, though at the time we know it not
and fail to recognise Her face
or hear within her quiet voice the tears of the Mother
grieving for all living things
and all the fallen World.
Grieve not, you disenchanted souls
but rise up on your own true wings…