Music’s Words
…When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze. Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,…
…When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze. Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,…
It’s the leaves on the treesIt’s a south wind That’s stirring me It’s just the season A sensation of being there
“God never made an ugly landscape. All that the sun shines on is beautiful, so long as it is wild.”
Words, they come with time, I pray between
Too much I remember from the places I’ve seen
Silence fills the space, light is driven from this place
A picture painted by the shadows in her face
I find myself staring into the beautiful spaces that God created and letting my mind wander over the hills, through the valleys, and along the streams. In my mind all of it is wild, all of it is untouched, and all of it is revered by mankind. From the path my mind wanders along, I see the people who now walk the streets of gold, the ones we loved here on earth. I long to sit and visit with them again. I long to hear the familiar laughter that each of them often contributed to our family gatherings. I ache to look into the eyes of those heroes who have gone before me. In those eyes, there are windows to all-time, the windows dressed in love are unmistakable. The eyes invite you in to sit and stay for awhile, they exude love, and portray a confidence that all will be just fine, for where we are gathered, He is there also. Try looking into the eyes of a loved one, maybe an older one, but one who has assured their eternal salvation by giving their life to Christ, and tell me you don’t see all I have described here, and more.
I wrote this piece two years ago, and this morning, I honor my aunt’s life by posting the original words I wrote.
Happy Mother’s Day Mom! One night a couple of months ago, I was tired and my mind was overflowing. I needed at least a little downtime and some quiet. I sat alone at my keyboard,… Oh Mother, Thank You
Waltzing through this life, our steps take us nearly everywhere.
Traces linger, and impressions we make, may still be there.
Time passes, a billion thoughts separate now from actions past.
Do we take accountability for the traces left as time flew fast?
Have we reaped yet what it was we sowed in our ignorant ways?
Have we addressed the ones who still hang on those yesterdays?Impressions Too