Jen Brinton
 

If I lean back
And press my ear to Your chest
Will I hear the song in Your heart?
The song that lingers in the air
Aeons after the final note is sung
Having flowed from an uncreated mouth
Bringing forth the seen and unseen realms
Mysteries beyond words
That only melodies express
Corresponding with light, colors, smells
Of what do You now sing?
To whom are Your lauds directed?
Do You gaze lovesick at Your glorious Bride?
Does wonder fill You?
Though You cannot be surprised
Do You still experience awe?
What tune plays on the organ of Your heart?
Whooshing through the pipes
Altogether glorious and infinite?
Is it the delicate notes of light
Accompanied by depths?
Or the tickling of keys
Likened to a light spring rain?
Or a full range – a wall of sound?
What was the great music
Which You orchestrated from the beginning?
Do the angels dance to the rhythm of Your heart?
Does all of creation live and move in an intricate concert
All based on the tone that You set?
I place my heart in Your hands, and ask
That You tune it to be in harmony with Yours!