Victorious Voices 1/17/09

Victorious Voices
Everything has its own song.

Josef von Eichendorff

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I hear the music of creation.

I hear the sounds of nature.

I hear the songs of life.

I hear the vigorously loud and the beautifully silent.

I hear the rolling tympani of thunder, the cymbal crash of lightening, the snare drum of rain on the window and the sweet celesta of falling snow upon my cheek.

I hear the adagio of the drifting clouds, the harp notes of sunshine and the oboe song of the moon.

I hear the trumpet calls from the mountain tops, the trombones in the forest and the gentle horn upon the surface of the lake.

I hear the flute tones of the humble pebbles on the beach, the whisper of the sand and the parade of marching bands as the tides come in.

I hear the choir of autumn colors, the sopranos in their nests in spring,

I hear the largo of the growing flowers and the presto of the squirrels.

I hear the siren song of stars and the humming along the garden path.

I hear the bubbling madrigal of children on their way to school.

I hear the opera of the busy city streets.

I hear the strings that sing of love and friendship, of hope and faith.

I hear the sounds of nature.

I hear the music of creation.

I hear the symphony of life.

"And all the trees of the field shall clap their hands."
Isaiah 55:12


DB Vagabond Journeys
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What one person, living or not, would you most like to have dinner with?
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You have the winter to answer. Please leave your response on my email or journal with your name, or journal title or email address. Thank you.

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