Looking for Myself Again

Lord knows, we all grow.

I seem to grow in fits and starts.

Some days I flourish and flow.

Certain music leads my thoughts to certainty and confirmation.

Endeavors ring true and inspire further.

Then sometimes, days at a time, halting insecurities inhibit the game.

The next move evades me.

A purpose for doing disappears, confused.

The textures of the quest shine, then muddle.

They skitter and shake.

The metaphors mix.

The materials and tools rattle in the drawers and on the shelves.

The notebooks and keys linger awaiting the fingers to fly.

The nibs rust and inks dry.

The dreams color the life.

The music stirs the heart and the growth continues.

The Music of the Wind

The Music of the Wind

I love the music of the spheres, the music of the wind on the fields and trees, the music of the shadows and the truth. I love the music of souls that hurt and seek the Lord in earnest for unselfish gain. I love the music of the loved ones gone on before me. I love the music that is made in fervent creativity and performed in honest expression. I love the music. I love the people. I love the instruments and the voices and the forces of physics created for this pleasure. I cannot wait patiently for the joy of heaven where all who love Him will sing.